Conceited Conspirators and Bloodless Bands
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: In 1982, Lord Grindelwald and Lord Dumbledore rule Britain, but opposition flourishes. Some will stay true. Others will not. Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange vow to create their own new order, if only they could tolerate the other. TR/BL
1. The Problem With Lust

Here we go again. Since I have nearly finished Fallacies and only need to edit some more chapters, I decided to allow myself the luxury to start another fic. I really have no idea where this came from (especially the beginning), but it seems to have become the bounding together of several ideas I have had in ways I did not expect.

Please be aware that this is an AU. Characters may act differently or interact differently to other characters because they have been through different experiences. For every variation there is an explanation (one large reason is at the end of this chapter). Some things to note: It is now 1982 and, if it is not apparent from the first chapter Albus and Gellert never had a falling out and took over Great Britain. Ariana was never killed so they bounded together and both have served jointly as Lords over Britain since 1955. This will impact everyone.

Now it begins.

* * *

Bella's breath hitched audibly as her lover hit just the right point inside her. It took all her perseverance to not cry out her lover's name as he continued to pump in and out of her with a strange level of clinical precision she had never seen in a man.

"Do you like that, Madam Lestrange?" The voice above her questioned in both a self assured and breathy tone.

She did not answer. She was biting down on her lips too hard to be able to answer anything. If she opened her mouth, she was sure she was just going to unleash a series of moans that would damn her even further.

"Come on Madam, one would almost think you did not want this, if your body was not so good at making you out to be a liar."

Still she refused to say anything as she closed her eyes and her body came closer and closer to her peak. She finally lost it when cool fingers started fingering her clit. Her world brightened momentarily as her body jerked and tensed until she finally fell back to earth with a wordless cry.

For his part, her lover seemed to fair only a little better. Lost in the afterglow, she felt him thrust into her with two more quick strides before he spilled himself inside of her.

Unlike her, other than the heavy breathing, he managed to keep silent.

It did not help her mood. Her anger had suddenly flared again and, without a word, she attempted to heave him off her. She seemed cursed to her fate, however, for he did not budge. He merely continued to press his body against hers and when she tried to hit him with flailing arms, he quickly sealed both above her head.

"I hate you," she sneered angrily back up at him. She knew it was a sign she was desperate. That never bothered him. This time she was only rewarded by a hollow laugh.

"Come on, Bella. Is that why you can never stay out of my bed for longer than a week?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. She neglected to mention this was his lounge in his office at his home and not a bed, but that did not bother either of them. "Or am I just that much of a better lover than your dear husband?"

It was a sign that she was confronted by the truth that she increased her struggles. It resulted in nothing, but it made her feel better. She did not want to acknowledge that, even if he was the truth. She loathed admitting it yet the man drew her in and she could just not understand why. Why was the frustrating half blood upstart who made her want to curse him within an inch of her life and fuck him over her desk make her so darn confused? She used to think the thought of kissing a half blood was enough to make her vomit, but now...

Snarling in frustration, she attempted to struggle free and raise her hackles like a rabid dog, but to it was to no avail. "Release me, Riddle or I will have you head."

She was more than a little surprised when he backhanded her. The only thing that surprised her more was the way it aroused her. Curse her traitor body and its mindless kinks and urges.

"Do not call me that," he hissed in anger, for the first time breaking his ice cold composure. She was rather proud of herself and not willing to back down despite the vulnerable position she found herself in.

"Is that because you do not want to be reminded of your filthy muggle fa-"

He backhanded her, harder this time, but she could only laugh at his face that was taut with fury.

Glaring at her fiercely, he stood, leaving her alone on the couch as he started to pick up his clothing from where they had thrown them earlier. "You wonder why they call you insane." He said softly as he pulled up his trousers, his back to her.

"Probably as I am," she replied filled with contentment now that he was off her and she had some freedom again. Stretching her muscles, she laid lavishly across the couch no care for her nakedness. Her mood always switched quickly and she found that managing to get under his skin had made her more pleased with the situation, even if she had to rely on factors that were the biggest cause of annoyance about the man. "You only need to see how many laws I am breaking. Even what we just did."

"I am quite aware of that," he replied with almost disinterested as he finally faced her, in the middle of buttoning up his robe. Shame, she thought she has ripped some of those buttons off. Maybe next time. "I am well aware it is a crime for a half blood to lay with a pureblood almost since Grindelwald came to power."

"One of the only sensible laws he passed," she replied lazily watching him continue to dress, "Surprised he did something so intelligent. Maybe it was before Dumbledore started fucking him up the arse."

"Or the other way around no doubt," Tom replied apparently more interested in the conversation now that he was dressed and in a better mood, presumably because the conversation had changed direction. She pondered making a remark about his interest in gay men, but decided to save it for another time. "There are rumours he is considering repealing it."

She made an elaborate sigh and threw her hands above her head in exasperation. "_Of course_ he is. Merlin, who would have thought that man ever had some sense?"

"Just not now." Continuing his prowl around his office, he paused and sat gracefully in one of the waiting armchairs that faced the lounge. His face was more serious as he stared down at her. Clearly time had come to discuss business. It had been their original plan, but admittedly they had got a little distracted. She would still blame him. "It won't matter they will be gone soon. You said you had received word that there were others willing to join."

She supposed it was time to finally concentrate. Standing up, it was her turn to dress though she continued to speak as she walked. "My cousin Evan Rosier is prepared. He is considering hinting to Uncle Nicholas but he is not sure. You said you knew him from Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but not well enough that he would not overlook my blood status."

"I would have thought that but it does not seem like it. Evan thinks he is pretty desperate. With my support he seems confident he can be persuaded. He was very fond of me. I'm sure you understand why."

She threw him a cheeky smile as she finally located her bra half under her desk. Pondering how the hell it had got there, she clipped it on and continued since Tom was staying silent. "Then Lucius is _very _supportive. I did say he was not content with his lot. All Malfoys are after better things and Lucius is no exception. I can use my sister if need be, but I do not think I will have to."

Tom interrupted with a slight cough and she turned to face him. "And your husband and his family?"

Her eyes darkened in irritation. She ignored him in favour of slipping on her robe.

"Come on, Bellatrix, should you not try?"

"Don't you think I know him better than that," she retorted angrily, "I would happily if I could but _I _know it is not possible. They are delusional with their faith towards Grindelwald. It would achieve nothing."

That seemed to satisfy him as he went silent once again. Her heart slowed again as her rage left her and she returned to the couch once again.

"Then I suspect he will not take kindly to you when we succeed in our rebellion," Tom mused thoughtfully. She only shot one raised eyebrow at him. "I wonder how he will react."

"We both know the answer to that."

"Death or divorce?"

"Either way my marriage is over," she said calmly as she lifted her left arm into the air and examined her wedding band.

"You do not seem too troubled by that."

She looked over at him sharply. She was not annoyed by the accurate accusation, merely curious.

"You seem very interested in this line of conversation."

Tom smiled secretly to himself. Once again she found herself cursing his gifts at Occluemency. "I might be."

She huffed in frustration. If he was going to be like this, she was not sticking around to be his plaything like everyone else. Standing, she made a move to head to the door when she felt a hand cease her hand. She was more surprised by the type of contact than the contact herself. Since when did he hold her hand?

"I am sticking by my word, Bella," he replied softer than she would have thought. It was enough to unfreeze her own gaze as she looked down at him. He stood up from his chair, but he did not release her hand. "You are the one who is taking the bigger risk. If you keep silent and anyone betrays you, it is only you who will pay the cost."

"Of course, I will keep silent. I am hardly a traitor," she replied with conviction. Neither mentioned this entire situation meant she was affectively betraying the current government and even the country. "You do not need to worry. If anything happens I will never mention you should and only I will be caught."

"No," he corrected quickly. "If anything happens you will run and I will send you to a place to keep you safe in France."

She looked at him confused. She had never heard this part before. "What is in France?"

Tom paused, his face blank. For a long time she did not think he would answer until he finally seemed to make a decision. "My mother."


	2. Family Bonds

As I mentioned in my note for the first chapter this is just a quick reminder that there is a reason the characters act the way they do. As I hinted at the end, Tom was raised by Merope. He grew up with a mother's love and affection and can understand the emotion. In many ways he is still cold, cruel, power hungry, ruthless and possessive. However, he can love. The fact is that he will only ever care for very few people even if he can love and to most people he can almost seem unchanged.

Have no fear. There is a reason for my madness.

Onto the chapter

* * *

"You're late, Tom." A voice declared on the couch as Tom stepped out of the fireplace, vanishing the soot of his robes with a clean even sweep of his wand.

"I am a busy man surely you would have realised that before," Tom replied evenly without any concern for the disapproval. Approaching the elderly woman, he stared down at her small frame. "I would have expected a better welcome with less criticism."

As Tom knew it would, the woman on the lounge had less perseverance for these vocal debates than he did. She snapped out of it swiftly and quickly found her feet, before she threw her arms around him.

"Better?" she questioned from where his chin rested against the tip of her head. He had been taller than her since he was thirteen.

"Much better, mother," he replied quietly as he stepped away, almost as if he expected anyone to see his moment of weakness. Finding a distraction, he saw two tea cups sitting neatly on the coffee table. "The tea is already made."

Merope only smiled. She was too used to her son's mannerisms to comment. She only fetched one cup and handed it to him. "Three sugars nice and sweet just as you like it. One wonders where you get such a sweet tooth."

The look he shot her was sharp as he sat on the comfortable armchair. "I hope it is from you."

She was quiet as she replied, "It was not." Tom knew she could sense his mood souring, but he was not in the business of caring at the moment. If she insisted on hinting at his resemblance to _him, _he should just leave. He expected an apology instead the conversation changed course. "Still no woman to bring home to your mother?"

He looked up and just chuckled at her both from the question and for the imminent answer. "After all this time you still insist on asking me that."

"Yes," Merope replied unashamedly, as she reached for a biscuit. "Mothers never stop asking that."

Tom made quite the show of rolling her eyes, pondering how to respond. Eventually he resigned himself to the only way. Besides it would at least amuse him. "Actually there is," he said softly with a wicked grin. It only increased when his mother floundered and almost dropped her cup of tea. He supposed he should not antagonise her.

"What? Who? How have you never told me about her before? Tom!" she scolded glaring at him when he started to laugh quietly to himself. "Do not make jokes about this."

"I am being serious, just not in the way you think," he said softly once he had recovered his calm mannerisms again. Taking a sip of his tea he smiled. "She is not my future wife or anything of that sort. She is more..." Even he was at a loss for words to describe her, but decided on the basic and most professional term. It was better to not give his mother ideas and delusions. "An ally of sorts. You know what is being planned in Britain?"

"Yes," she replied with a strain in her voice. Tom knew she was worried. She had no reason to be. He was more than capable of looking after himself.

"Well, one of my allies is taking considerable risk. It is unlikely but possible she may be outed. If that happens, I promised her asylum in the place I knew was safe."

"And you promised a room in my house without permission." She sighed and shook her head. Tom was glad she knew it was pointless to berate him. "What is her name then?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

This time she did drop her tea, but with a wordless charm from Tom saved her from being scolded as the cup drifted back to the table.

"You told me you hated her!" he mother cried out.

He was careful before he replied, "I did."

* * *

As she returned home from work and she stepped into the Entrance Hall, Bellatrix was determined for it to seem just like another day. She tossed her cloak into the waiting arms of a house elf without a glance to check if it was there. She did not need to. The creature had better be there to save her cloak from falling onto the ground. One day it had not been there. She had ensured it never made that error again.

Her eyes flicked to the sitting room where her husband would be waiting. She wanted to go in the other direction and avoid him, but no one could say Bellatrix Lestrange was a coward. She loathed the mere thought. It motivated her and she pressed her palm into the cool wood and stepped inside.

The fire roared in the heart battling away the English chill. Rodolphus at least seemed to think so as he chose the chair closest to the flames, his head bent over some ageing text. Bellatrix could not care less what it was about. He raised his head as she stepped inside, he even managed half a smile.

She did not even bother returning it.

"Rodolphus," she greeted coolly with a crisp nod of her head.

"Good evening, Bellatrix." His voice was always calm and tonight was no exception, but she knew his voice meant little. She was not foolish; she could see the look in his eye. He was not talented enough to hide his regard for her or maybe he just did not care.

She had sworn she would start this conversation it was just a matter of how. She did not like the feeling of uncertainty and rather than sit there and sway on the balls of her feet she went to the cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

"Drink?" she asked as she refiled through the various bottles, shooting a glance behind her shoulder at her husband.

This time Rodolphus did look up. Placing the book on the table, he stared at her curiously with ice blue eyes. She did not like that look.

"Scotch," he answered softly. She did not argue for once as she fixed a glass for him and one for herself. Handing one to her husband, she sat opposite him, pondering her plan of action. Unfortunately, Rodolphus knew her better. "So what do you want, Bella? Evidently something. I cannot remember the last time you voluntarily fetched me a drink. Should I expect poison?"

Obviously he did not really believe what he said as he fearlessly sipped the glass, the ice clinking softly on the surface.

"So suspicious, Rod," she murmured swallowed her own drink. He was right. It was out of character. She supposed she did not have a reason to hide her intentions now. "I merely come offering a suggestion."

"Yes..." Rodolphus replied suspiciously, his eyes not leaving hers even as he drank his scotch.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Bellatrix flicked her hair behind her shoulders and straightened her back. She knew what she should say. It would not be too difficult.

"We need to do something. _All _of us." She urged passionately, her voice empowered as she shot straight to the matter at hand. "This is foolish. The Ministry is heading down hill we all know it. Grindelwald has lost all his sense. He only sits and follows whatever Dumbledore says and everyone knows Dumbledore is the biggest bleeding heart, mudblood or otherwise. The Ministry is going downhill we all know this."

"Do we?" Rodolphus asked with a raise of one eyebrow. "As far as I am aware no one has done more for the pureblood cause than _Lord _Grindelwald. Purebloods have been decreasing rapidly in numbers in the past few centuries, but it has started to level only with his reforms. Mudbloods are at the bottom at society just where they should be and-"

"But still there," Bella cut him off with an aggressive tone. "They are not even fit to lick our boots, but we must still walk beside them. We all know Grindelwald is perfectly fine with that. With Dumbledore's blessing he will no doubt push them up again. The tax changes are just the beginning! You know it is!"

Rodolphus was quiet for several moments, but, when he placed his now empty cup on the table in front of him, his light blue eyes were strangely deep. "You suggest a rebellion because of a mere tax increase. We have not had one in a decade."

"When did I call for a rebellion?" Bellatrix questioned sharply, her heart rate slightly swifter with the realisation Rodolphus had read her intentions already.

"That would be the entire point of this conversation would it not be my dear wife?"

Rodolphus was the very definition of ice, but Bella was the very fire that could melt that ice. Losing patience, she found her feet, resisting the urge to throw the rest of her drink in her husband's smug face.

"I cannot believe I married someone who could side with mudbloods." It was difficult to stop herself screaming but her voice was noticeably louder and angrier.

"I can only side with the right side. Only purebloods."

Bellatrix had enough. Growling and cursing under her breath, she stormed out of the room her glare fiery.

_Fucking Rodolphus. _She did not need him. She swore she did not.


	3. When Something Goes Wrong

It was only two days later, that Bellatrix found herself sitting by a fire in Tom's sitting room, staring up at him as he paced in front of her.

Her own fury had not yielded in the slightest.

"He said no?" Tom asked as he turned on his heel to walk back again. His usual blank face was set into a permanent frown wrinkling his handsome but aged features. "Are you quite sure of that? There is no hope."

"No," she snapped angrily up at him, "As I have told you a dozen times, no. The bloody fool is more than ever deluded by Grindelwald. He will not change his mind."

For a fraction of a moment, she swore she heard Tom mutter something under his breath, but, by the time she was concentrating completely, there was nothing to be heard. There was only silence until he eventually spoke, "What did you tell him? Who does he suspect is involved?"

It clicked in her mind why Tom was so worried: He feared she had implicated him. She let out a hollow laugh as she shook her head. "Do not worry, Tom, I did not mention you. Rodolphus believes it is only an idea I had."

She knew Tom would probably prefer to hide it, but she could see he relaxed slightly. He turned back to her and his voice was calm again. "That is good. Very good."

"I do not think he will say anything," she replied firmly as she watched him sit down on the armchair opposite her. "Strangely I think he will stay silent about what I said. It does not stop anything. We can still go ahead as planned."

"Then you should try once again to convince him-"

"No," she snapped interrupting him and probably earning his ire. She did not care. "Just leave it, Tom. Rodolphus will not help us."

She did not like this conversation at all. She did not like sitting and discussing Rodolphus with Tom. It could have been tolerable if she could stop thinking that the firelight played wonderfully on his cheekbones and how tempting it would be to just to push him into the leather armchair and straddle him as she rocked against him.

Her cursed longing was back again. She snarled and hissed at it, but it still returned spurned by something about Tom's presence that would not disappear. She countered against it by whispering to herself in her mind, _half blood, half blood, half blood, half blood. _

Only Tom's voice broke her from her tormented thoughts. "You are quite sure you are ready?" he asked. She thought she might have heard concern in his voice, but she penned it down as a flaw in her ears.

"Yes!" she snapped once again. "It will all go according to plan."

Tom looked at her and smiled slightly.

She cursed her body as a part of her started to tingle.

Erasing any sense of previous decorum and muting her previous mantra, she sprang from her seat. Before Tom could even react, she was straddling him and kissing him passionately.

She still could not understand how she had fallen like this.

* * *

_It was quite strange. She thought he did not seem like a half blood as he leaned over his desk to examine the list of names they had both been staring at and discussing for the past hour. Each had a tick, a scratch through them, or a small note beside them written in one of two types of handwriting: They had both fought over the quill many times during their debate. They were at least near the end of their list._

_It had been six months since she had agreed to this. She was not sure how. One moment she had let slip one minor criticism of Lord Grindelwald to Tom Riddle and she had been sure all her future ambitions were finished. She was Head of the Aurors, a relatively prestigious position for a woman who was only thirty, but Bellatrix had greater plans: Next to the Head of the Department and then to leading the Ministry itself._

_After that one slip, she had thought she was finished. She and Tom Riddle had never been friends. She had always loathed the little half blood upstart, who was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, purely on principle: With his blood status he deserved to be wallowing in some gutter, but instead he had been gifted with prestige and power. She always had made it quite clear she despised him for that fact alone. Her disrespect had earned her his hatred which had only seemed to spiral into more passionate fury with every moment they were in each other's presence._

_She had known he would report her words._

_He had not. _

_Instead, he had been surprised by her display of disloyalty and they had both been granted an ally who shared his same goals and aspirations._

_Even if they still detested each other._

_From Bella's side, she was sure her feelings were the same, despite working together: Only a means to an end_

_Riddle paused over a name where she had made a note and a very large tick._

"_Are you sure about him, Lestrange?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed gleam in his eyes. "From what I hear, the only thing Wilkes can do is lace his shoes and even then he makes an error."_

"_Sure," she snapped, not backing down in the slightest. She loathed the challenge to her decision. "I trained him myself. He went through the Auror Training and I personally mentored him."_

_She did not miss the elaborate rolling of Riddle's eyes. "Then _of course _he must be fine if you trained him yourself," he drawled sarcastically. _

_Bellatrix did not miss the implication._

"_What does that mean?" she demanded finding her feet and resisting the urge to pull out her wand. She found her heart was racing faster and faster. She wanted nothing more than to curse that smug smile off his face._

_It was almost painful to restrain herself._

"_You know exactly what it means," Riddle replied smugly, not backing down in the slightest as he faced her with a cool look on his feature and also found his feet. Calmly, he even dared walk around the desk to face her so there were only a few feet between them. "You have no skill. You are only good for your blood status and connections. My dear Bellatrix, you are _weak."

_Bellatrix lost whatever patience she had managed to muster. Her hand darted for the wand in her pocket faster than most would have been able to catch. Somehow, he did. As her hand brushed the fabric of her robe pocket, Riddle shot his own hand out and tightly gripped her own. Automatically she tried wrenched away from him, but her only reward was for him to grip her other arm the same way._

"_Let me go," she seethed with venom looking up at him. She was tall herself, but she hated how he still managed to be a good five inches taller than her. _

_She pulled harder and harder, but he did not yield. He only stepped closer to her so there was barely any room separating their two bodies. _

_Smiling he lent closer and whispered into her ear, "No."_

_She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout or even just use one of her knees to kick or even for her head to strike out against him in some way._

_Just not all of her felt the same._

_As he was withdrawing with a cocky gleam on his features, somehow something went wrong. Somehow something in her body screamed for something else and all that hate exploded in the wrong way._

_Her lips smashed against his in a fiery furious kiss._

_It was not unpleasant. He reacted faster than she would have thought. His mouth was strangely cool as their mouth moved against each other's each demanding control. Neither party would surrender, but still the war continued. Her arms continued to flail against his grip, but it was strangely half hearted as he pushed her onto the lounge._

_She did not fight that._

_As he pressed her into the cushioned surface, her hands were released. In that moment any thought of a wand was forgotten as she struggled to get what she sought out of his trousers and he tried to get her robes off. In all the passion, fire and anger on the couch that day, the anger did not leave. _

_They merely found another outlet._

In the fogginess of her sleep addled brain, Bellatrix watched the replay of herself in her memory let out a wordless cry as she came on the lounge in the arms of the man she still hated. She might have continued to watch it pan out, if the niggling feeling that something was not quite right had not settled over her. With the practice of one who had learned a number of mind tricks, the feeling increased as she steadily started to waken and finally found the cause.

With a snarl, her eyes fluttered open to stare into the deep blue eyes of Tom Riddle. She was lying on the same bed they had shared before and she must have asleep.

Tom sat beside her. Resting against the head board his wand was in his hand as he focused on her.

"How dare you?" she snipped, pushing herself up into a seating position, she rounded on him not caring about the fact she was naked and the top half of her was exposed. "Do you see me using Legilimency on you when you are asleep?"

"Not that you could," he replied smugly, his eyes scraping down to her breasts.

She scoffed rather than admit the truth. She may be able to use Legilimency but from previous unsuccessful attempts she knew he was right. Sensing this fight was lost, she moved to slide away from him and out of bed, but he caught her around her middle and tugged her back to him.

"I hate you," she hissed, now almost out of practice, as he kissed her. She did not fight back this time.

She would get him back later for now she would keep trying to keep faith with her hate.

Bella loathed admitting it was becoming a losing battle.


	4. Expected Attacks

The strange stream of well timed updates continues. It is a little odd, but here we go. Where someone is killed, something goes wrong and Tom is a little confused and does not like the feeling at all.

* * *

As two figures stood silently under the creaking branches of the yew tree, the darkness covered them almost as effectively as their black cloaks. Bellatrix focused on the impressive Victorian Era country estate in front of her, but the man beside her stared at the pocket watch clenched tightly in his pale hand.

"Five minutes," Tom whispered quietly and carefully so that they would not be heard. Clicking it shut, he turned to his companion. "Antonin and your uncle will have the wards down at exactly ten to one."

She murmured a wordless reply seemingly without much interest. Tom scowled. Bellatrix seemingly had the inability to take matters seriously. He often wondered if she realised the consequences of her actions at all.

From the very beginning of their plans, she had insisted relentlessly that they both participate in this mission. He thought it was foolish and reckless to risk themselves in such a way. Yes, it required some skill that some of their allies did not possess, but it was still utterly senseless. He knew that the contacts they possessed meant, if either were caught or perished, there would be chaos and all their plans would come to nought.

Yet, she insisted.

While he loathed the thought, he had eventually relented, but not without a compromise: There would be at least two others who would assist them. He knew that irked her, no doubt she wanted the glory to herself, but she had finally agreed.

The rest of the plans went along smoothly.

After all, both wanted to be the ones to kill Avery. Tiberius Avery was a boy who Tom remembered from his school days. Little Avery may not have not been as skilled as Tom nor was he from the aristocracy (his family wealth was from trade), but he harnessed whatever gifts he had been born with and made it quite clear, both inside and outside school that, no half blood would ever give him any orders.

The man had never been punished for his defiance. Tonight he would be.

He did not know why Bellatrix wanted to do the murdering: Perhaps she just liked killing or maybe she knew the importance of assassinating one of Grindelwald's most faithful and the British Treasurer.

It did not matter. He had abandoned trying to conclude what went on in the crazy and terrifying mind that was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Time." Bellatrix barked softly to his right as she turned to him sharply.

He would have liked nothing more than to slap her for her indigenous behaviour but instead he replied with a quiet answer, "One minute."

Silently they both mentally counted down. His eyes focused down on the clock as the second hand moved around the face. Bellatrix lent in to observe so that she rubbed against him and he could smell the strong musky scent of her perfume.

It was not at all unpleasant.

Until, finally, the hand ticked over to the next minute.

Two pairs of dark eyes met.

"Now." They both whispered. They shared a curt nod then they were off, silently and swiftly darting through the shadows almost in a race against each other as they headed for the door.

* * *

It was a little more than an hour later when Tom and Bellarix found themselves in a considerably different position.

Tom's eyes were unusually bright and his grin unusually large underneath his hood while the trail of his cloak was coated in blood.

He was in a better state than Bellatrix.

She had shunned her hood and the moonlight flittered over her wild tresses of black hair as blood trickled down her face and neck.

Her eyes met his. They shone with such passion and fire. He did not break his gaze from hers. He was not sure why he found the sight so arousing. Most likely he just imagined it was her blood that coated her body. Maybe if he bit her neck hard enough.

It took considerable effort, but he looked back at the house behind them that had finally fallen silent after the previous screams. Somehow his eyes met hers again.

"We should go," he replied softly, but there was a throaty rasp of longing that he could not ignore. "It is not safe here."

Bellatrix grinned and flicked her hair behind her shoulders exposing more of her elegant swan like neck. "I know just where to go."

He was slightly apprehensive, but another part of his body was doing his thinking for him as she grabbed his arm and they side along apparated. In a whip like crack, his vision cleared and his eyes now found themselves focusing on a larger and more ancient home.

Shaking his head, Tom tutted. "What are we doing here, Bellatrix? This is folly. If your husband were to-"

Evidently she was not listening to him as she cut him off with a searing kiss. He could taste blood in her mouth and his arousal heightened. It was difficult, but he managed to control himself.

Pulling her off him, he held her back and stared into her eyes. "What do you think you are doing?" he snapped like how you would scold a toddler. "Do you want to get caught? I do not care about how you view your husband, but the consequences of being caught are more serious than the end of your marriage."

Bellatrix was not upset or daunted. "I am well aware of that," she replied with considerable confidence and swagger. "He is not here. His father is very sick. They do not think he will recover. That means plenty of wine and lots of tears. He will not return home tonight."

"I suppose," he replied cautiously as she tried to tug him along.

"Come on Tom," she hissed seductively into his ear. "Don't you want to soil me in his bed? I know you do."

He would not fight any longer. Without any fuss, he allowed her to lead him upstairs as he tried to convince himself it was not folly.

* * *

The bed was certainly bigger and more comfortable than his own as he lay spread out in the middle of crumpled sheets. Eyes half closed, Bellatrix planted kiss after kiss along his stomach trying to entice him into a second round.

She had already won the battle and he was well and truly enticed, though he would hold out a little longer. He wanted to beat down her pride a little and make her beg, at least, if his lower body did not give him away first.

"Tom," she moaned against his skin. Her tongue was daring and wet, sliding along the top of his pelvis and to the very end of each of thigh. "Come on Tom."

With one shaky breath he conceded defeat. Before she could even react, with a sequel from Bella, he flipped her so he was pinned to the bed. He was about to plunge into her when several things happened at once.

He heard the bedroom door open and, despite the distractions he faced, he turned his head to find Rodolphus Lestrange staring at him.

It took him only one glance at the furious look in his eyes and the hand gripping his wand for Tom to leap off Bellatrix and roll onto the floor on the other side of the bed. More thankful than he had ever been for his use of wandless magic, he summoned his wand into his hand and found his feet, still as naked as the day he was born.

He had other matters to deal with.

"You!" Rodolphus roared and sent a curse at him.

Tom was not worried. With ease he reflected curse after curse while he stood his ground. His eyes never left Lestrange, not even to consider where Bellatrix had moved. He considered duelling Lestrange, he knew he could win, but at what cost? The damage had been done.

Deflecting one final curse, he spun on his heel and disapparanted leaving Lestrange Manor and the Lestranges behind.

Breathing heavily, he appeared home, his face paler than usual.

He was safe, unharmed and there was no evidence to link anything to him other than what Lestrange had seen. He could name him as having relations with a pureblood and he could be imprisoned for that (or at least someone attempting and failing to take him), but he was fairly confident Lestrange would not embarrass himself by admitting he was being cheated of his wife by an old half blood.

No, he was sure he was fairly safe on this topic.

Only Bellatrix would be in for any serious trouble considering what she had already told her husband.

Then why was he feeling so guilty?

Why did he actually care?


	5. A Lord

The next two chapters are a little shorter, but after, they start becoming longer again. They just fit better this way.

* * *

Rodolphus Lestrange wrung his hands together under the table so as to not reveal his nerves and feelings to the man in front of him. Lord Gellert Grindelwald in many ways looked how you would expect an aging powerful leader to appear: His hair was grey but neat, he had a thick beard, his robe were of luxurious silk and he held himself in such a way that made it clear he thought all should worship him.

Rodolphus would not disagree on the last point.

He had been raised to believe that all the work Lord Grindelwald had done was great and masterful. He had succeeded in ways that all should be grateful for. Rodolphus may not have thought as strongly about Lord Dumbledore, yet they should each be worshipped and followed as a pair to be praised.

Sitting in his presence, Rodolphus knew all these ideas were correct. He was not someone to mindlessly follow, but, in his brain, he knew Grindelwald was the right man to follow, so, he followed.

"Are you quite sure about this information, Mr Lestrange?" Lord Grindelwald inquired over finger tips that were pressed closely together in a triangle.

"Yes, my Lord," Rodolphus replied obediently with a nod. "It is correct."

Grindelwald did not seem to accept his words straight away, but appeared to sit quietly and consider them. Rodolphus begged silently he would not question him any further. He was not sure how long his nerves and determination would withstand the deliberation.

Those pleas were not answered.

"You see, Mr Lestrange, it seems like there is more to this. I cannot fathom why a husband would accuse his wife of treason." He looked at Rodolphus' expectedly.

"I understand, my Lord, but my wife gave me no other choice. I always knew she was not as passionate of a follower of the Ministry as I was, but I did not know the extent until the other day. She approached me, begged for my support and assistance in bringing down the Ministry. I asked if she meant rebellion and she practically agreed!"

Rodolphus knew, from the way the Dark Lord leaned forward that he had his attention.

"I might not have done anything, except what I heard later. Mr Selwyn confessed Bellatrix had said something similar to him as well. Then there was the tragic death of Mr Avery." He shook his head sadly though he did not care about the man. "It was too much of a coincidence. I knew it was her. I admit I may not love my wife but it is all true and it was the right thing to do."

Most of it was true, but not all of it. The last lie was the biggest of them all: He did love Bellatrix. That was exactly why it had hurt. He had given her _everything _she had ever asked her. He had been a faithful husband who tried to make her happy whenever he could. He was not a man to give away his heart, but she had taken it. He did not ever show it because expressing affection or emotion was not a gift he naturally possessed but Bellatrix owned his heart.

So, when he found her in bed with another man, his heart had irrefutably snapped. Worst of all, the other was a half blood. An old half blood who he had thought Bellatrix loathed. He now knew it was only an act.

His pride would not allow such blight on his name.

Oh how he wanted to ensure Riddle was punished too, but, now, that was not possible. He had no proof Riddle had done anything wrong. Yes, he had slept with a pureblood (which was an offensive in itself), yet Rodolphus could not admit that. To admit that would mean confessing his wife preferred a half blood over him.

That he could not divulge.

So, instead, it was Bella that must be blamed.

He tried to keep his face as blank as his empty heart. However, somehow his face fluttered and faltered as he stared down at his feet. Did that mean his heart was doing the same thing?

It did not matter. Grindelwald had finished his inquisition.

While Rodolphus looked up he saw the lord indicating to his assistant. "Get Auror Mulciber." he replied swiftly as if it was the easiest thing to say in the world. "Tell him to arrest Bellatrix Lestrange. If he brings her in unharmed, there might even be a promotion in it for him. After all, we will need a new Head Auror."

* * *

Despite the drama of the night before and a restlessness night's sleep full of worry that the Aurors would descend upon him, once he had risen from bed, Tom's daily routine had been fairly typical. He had showered, combed his hair, dressed in his usual formal robes and was heading down to breakfast at the exact time of ten to seven.

Everything was usual. At least until he heard the sounds of heels scrapping on wooden floorboards and Bellatrix turned a corner and literally ran into him.

Despite his shock and the impact from the collision, he only stepped back once and was able to ensure they both stayed on their feet. "Bellatrix, what?" he began, holding her upright, but he was quickly interrupted.

"Aurors, Tom! Aurors!" she gasped out of breath and trembling in a way he had never seen from her before. "They were everywhere! I somehow managed to escape. I'm not sure how."

"Calm, Bellatrix and breathe," he instructed keeping his voice just how he requested hers to be. "Slowly explain to me what happened."

He was very surprised that she did what he asked.

With a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and, when she opened them, they were slightly calmer. "I was just having breakfast when it happened. The breakfast doors exploded from its hinges and three Aurors entered and said I was under arrest. I knew it was time so I just acted. I cursed one straight away, duelled the other two and managed to escape. My first thought was to come here."

Of all the things he had said that day her last confession was the strangest of them all. "Why?" he said softly though he was not at all annoyed.

She looked at him in the eyes and smiled. "You promised me safety and a place to hide."

Of course, he thought to himself as he slipped his hand into his robe pocket and pulled out the same pocket watch he had used before the attack on Avery. Unclipping it from his pocket, he handed it to her reluctantly. "It will take you to France. You will be safe there."

She looked up at him as she took it into her own hands. She did not say anything and he did not expect her to. Stepping forward he activated the portkey and moved back knowing it would take twenty seconds before it flared into life.

"Treat my mother with respect," he snapped firmly as he watched her. "Do not come back to England until I tell you to."

Again she surprised him by nodding. It was indeed a grave situation when Bellatrix Lestrange complied.

"Of course," she said quietly, and then she lowered her voice even further. "Thank you."

As light engulfed her and she started to spin, Tom was left with the echo of her words in his ears.

He hoped it was only from lack of sleep.


	6. A House In France

Again, just another shorter update, but the next one will be longer.

Also, on a random note, I don't imagine Bella is someone who swears on instinct or curses often with her upbringing. If she ever swears I think it is only when she wants to shock someone or annoy them.

The short sentences and breaks are deliberate in the last section to indicate his current feelings.

* * *

As the world came back into focus and the feeling of a jerk behind his navel decreased, Bellatrix shakily found her feet. However, her body still continued to tremor as she clenched the pocket watch Tom had given her and stared wide eyed at the area surrounding her.

The sizzle of bacon quickly drew her eyes to the hashes cooking in a fry pan, the scent reaching her nose. She was too engulfed in other thoughts to appreciate it and, instead, she continued her exploration as she took a few cautious steps around. Unfortunately, there was nothing of interest, but a modern and ordered kitchen with a simple table, a good distance away from the counters, with enough space for four

Was this where Tom meant to send her? It seemed just like a normal and mediocre household. Maybe that was the point. He probably wanted to irritate her.

Her eyes cautiously spied the bacon. The cook could not be far away and, if Tom was to be believed, it would be his mother. For one moment that shot at her belly, she worried it might mean his father was here too. Filthy muggle. She would rather be on the streets than share a house with a muggle. She assumed he was dead, but, then again, she had assumed the same thing about his mother. Somehow Tom had managed to hide her away from the world. He could do the same thing for a muggle father.

Bellatrix was thrown from her musings, by the soft slapping sound of slipper clad footsteps. Her wand was in her hand in a moment, as she spun around to face the woman who entered the room. She seemed to be in her seventies with lank silver hair that was cut short. She was paler than even Bella or Tom with grey eyes that were strangely cross eyed and were wide open in shock.

No one could ever describe her as attractive. Bellatrix already concluded she could not be Tom's mother.

"Who are you?" Bella hissed baring no thought to the fact she was infringing in someone else's house. Her wand hand did not flinch, but remained pointed straight at her in determination.

The older woman looked cautiously, her eyes locking onto Bella's wand awkwardly.

"Merope Riddle," she replied meekly like a woman who was much younger and shyer. "Who are you?"

Bellatrix might not have replied, but the name Riddle was enough to provide an answer. Maybe she was Tom's mother. Just how could such an ugly thing produce someone like Tom who, even in his fifties, was undeniably attractive?

"Bellatrix Lestrange," she said confidentially. She chose to cut straight to the matter at hand. "Are you Tom's mother?"

The name had an impact as Merope nodded, but still her lips thinned in disapproval. Bella could not care either way. "I am. Tom did say you might come."

"Well I have come." There was a pause. By the way the other woman was glaring at the floor, Bellatrix did not imagine it was going to be broken by her. "Then you know who I am?"

It was strange to look directly into cross eyed eyes, but she did when Merope looked back up at her. It was like the other woman had already been filled with presumptions.

"He has. He tells me these things. I am his mother after all."

Again Bella thought it strange to think of Tom with his mother, especially telling her the truth. She herself did not tell such tales to her own mother.

"Clearly you have already made your judgement," she replied snobbishly as she looked down her nose at the much shorter woman. "I wonder what is worse. Him running home to whine to his mother or his mother believing every word of her son."

Feeling more comfortable, she stowed her wand in her robes and leaned back on the table behind her. The other woman was not so calm. "Do you expect me to be happy about a woman who disrespects my son and then-"

"Fucks him?" Bellatrix cut in with a smirk not caring about how vulgar it was. It certainly impacted the other woman who flinched and shrank back while her eyes widened.

"I-I-" Merope spluttered like a gaping goldfish. "I did not mean _that. _Tom did not even mention anything like that."

_Oops_ she thought to herself. She misinterpreted that situation. Oh well, it was only Tom's mother. Who cared if she knew anything? Tom might since he had not told her in the first place, but that hardly worried Bella.

She shrugged. "Well now you know," she said simply and unashamedly, but she did at least change the subject. "What room is mine?"

If the other woman was pleased about the change of conversation she did not show it. Still tense, she nodded, seemingly reluctantly, and gestured for her. "Follow me."

Confidently, Bellatrix strode after the woman. She noticed how slim she was and she almost seemed to shrink. Bella's eyes quickly left her and examined the surroundings as they walked up a set of stairs. It was just a modest house with nothing to distinguish it.

Finally, Merope pushed open a room upstairs and allowed Bellatrix to walk inside. Like everything else, it was just bland, but neat with a bed, a wardrobe and some bed side tables.

She was unimpressed and she did not hide that fact as she turned back to her. "It will do," she said coldly without a word of thanks.

"Let me know if you require anything," Merope said meekly and rather robotically. She turned and left quickly.

Left to her own devices, Bellatrix threw herself onto the bed lost in thought.

Is this what her life had sunk to? Existing in such pathetic accommodation and relying on help from a man she hated.

* * *

The Lestrange house had never been a place that was full of life, at least when it was only the domain of Bellatrix and Rodolphus.

That night seemed more dead than usual.

Rodolphus had not even lit a candle. The only light was from the hearth the house elves had tended. He did not care. It was easier to just stare into the darkness.

He had been told Bella had escaped that day.

He knew the Aurors would be sent after her. He had been informed when it would occur so he had ensured he was far away from home.

Then he had been just as furious. Now, as the shadows from the hearth danced around him, that feeling had mostly abated.

He just felt numb.

His wife was somewhere and, the only way he would ever see her again, was in a prison cell. Despite his previous actions, he was starting to regret his decisions. He had been furious. He had been unwilling to sit to the side and do nothing.

Now, it was the only thing he could do.

Sipping his drink, he closed his eyes allowing the built up buzz from the alcohol to settle over him.

If only he could target Riddle.

He had already encountered him once that day. It had only been a simple passing in the hallway, but that one sight had been enough to almost break his composure. Riddle may have been ice cool, even managing a curt nod, but Rodolphus' hands had gripped his wand tightly the whole time.

Even now, as he sat at home, he regretted not following through. Perhaps, if Riddle was dead, he could rest at last.

He had not forgotten what he had done.

He could not.


	7. The Fronts We Form

Finally an update! This one gave me more troubles than all of the others, so I hope that future gaps will not be as long. I hope to get chapters out about once a week.

* * *

The Ministry had been in an uproar for days since the assassination of Avery. As Senior Undersecretary, Tom had stood dutifully beside both leaders, without any twitch of guilt on his features, as the tales from the night before had been rolled out.

The loss of Avery and the attempted arrest of Bellatrix Lestrange had rocked the Ministry's to its foundations. It should have been a secret, but, somehow, everyone knew that Rodolphus Lestrange had made the allegations against his wife about her involvement.

It was never known for sure that it was related to Bellatrix: Only that she had been treasonous. However, naturally, almost all had linked the two.

Most, anyway.

There were some who were convinced that Bellatrix was innocent and Rodolphus' accusations were only produced from a desire to blight his wife's name and possibly end his marriage.

Throughout it all, Tom had kept the correct front. He had listened to the gossip that spread through the Ministry, but he had only participated enough to avoid scrutiny.

It was easier to remain uninvolved when everyone thought he hated Lestrange so there was not one twitch of blame laid at his feet.

It was just how he preferred it to be.

Sitting behind his neatly ordered desk, he looked up at the man he had sent for only a few minutes ago: Lucius Malfoy who he suspected had been eagerly awaiting this meeting.

As was human nature, everyone needed a motive for their actions and allegiances. Malfoy had been sympathetic to their cause from the outset, but inciting actions required something else. The solution was obvious: Power.

Malfoy longed for power and influence in the Ministry so that was what Tom would promise. His first reward would be today.

"Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy," Tom greeted curtly as he sat at the edge of his seat with a straight back. "Take a seat."

Lucius Malfoy was someone who always possessed a certain elegant ease. He looked impeccably groomed from his straight blonde hair tied in a single silk black ribbon to the expensive business robes he proudly wore. His appearance did not impact Tom in the slightest, but he knew it would influence the opinion of others.

It was why it was wise to have him on side.

"Thank you," Malfoy said softly as he settled behind the desk, his grey eyes boring into Tom's dark eyes. He had the look of someone who wanted something and was not accustomed to being denied it. Tom was quite content to cut straight to that matter.

"I feel I ought to congratulate you, Mr Malfoy. It has been decided that a promotion is in order due to your dedication to your current position and your clear abilities." Both men knew the other too well to know he was being sincere. It was just the motions they had to go through so they could reach the conclusion they both desired. "With the tragic death of the Ministry's most esteemed treasurer, Mr Avery, it has been suggested that you should be offered the position."

"That would be quite an honour," Malfoy replied swiftly not even allowing a moment's pause to exist. There were no surprises. He knew it was coming. "I would be most honoured to accept the position."

Neither man smiled, but both had a peculiar gleam in their cold eyes. "Good. I will be pleased to work closely with you."

They did not need to mention they had already been working together anyway.

The Ministry was full of foreign ears. No one knew who could be listening. For now, all they had were their fronts to present.

* * *

It was several days after the chaos that was Bellatrix's escape, when Tom finally had time to disappear to France. The location had always been a carefully guarded secret. He knew his efforts and ambitions would create several enemies and he had no desire for them to cause any harm to his mother.

When he was still only in his twenties, he had created the safe house for his mother to ensure she was away from anyone who could do her harm. If anyone ever inquired, he would merely pretend the two had been in conflict and were no longer in contact.

It was a wise ruse. No one had ever questioned the matter and no one ever would.

If something ever happened to him, it was always the place he knew he could flee to.

This time it was where Bellatrix could hide.

His previous words were truthful: She had better not disrespect his mother. His mother was the only one he cared about. If his mother was mistreated, Bellatrix would find no sympathy from him.

As he took the floo to the home, he half expected she would have ignored his words. Stepping out of the green flames emitting from the fireplace, he also assumed he would find his mother in her usual seat.

She was not there. Instead he heard her voice drifting from the other room.

Automatically his feet took him in that direction. Despite his warning to Bellatrix, he half expected to hear the sound of warring factions. However, in its place, he could have sworn the emotions in the two woman's voices were filled with merriment.

"And here is this one," He heard the voice of his mother say as the sound of shuffling papers reached his ears. "I believe it was taken in 1930."

A gale of laughter was the only reaction. "Really? No, you have to be lying. How can that be him?"

"It is." Merope's voice was tenser and Tom could not help, but wait in the hallway. He wanted to know if Bellatrix had followed through with their bargain.

"Oh! What is that one under there?" Bella questioned excitedly.

"Don't look at that!"

There was a noise of shuffling papers followed by an even louder burst of laughter from Bellatrix.

Tom was never someone to wait too long for information and he was sure he had waited long enough now. Stepping out of the hallway, he entered the kitchen.

Bellatrix and his mother were seated around the table. Bellatrix had his back to him and was doubled over in hysterical laughter with something clutched in her hand while Merope watched cautiously. A heavy book was in front of her and her hands were outstretched as if she thought to grab something.

There were other objects on the table too: Photos of him from childhood. His heart sunk and anger settled over him. What were they doing before Bellatrix?

Merope was the first to notice his appearance as he glared at the photos spread over the small dining table.

"Tom!" she greeted with enthusiasm and relief. For a moment he feared she would try to embrace him in front of Bellatrix, but, wisely, she remained seated. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said tensely as he drew further into the room stopping between his mother's and Bellatrix's seats. He noted the other woman had stopped laughing, but he was unwilling to look at her. "What are you doing?"

His mother at least had the sense to appear ashamed when she responded, "Mrs Lestrange found me adding photos to some photo albums. I had not realised she was awake, but, once she saw them, she insisted on looking."

The explanation did not please him and he may have made that point clear if Bellatrix had not chosen the moment to interrupt.

"But they are such adorable photos, Tom," she said gleefully as he turned to glare at her grin filled face. She flipped over the photo in her hand to reveal a picture of him at about the age of four or five without any clothing at all. "Look how _big_ you have grown."

He did not miss the double meaning not did it improve his mood. He would have thought his mother would not have taken any notice, but she was looking back and forth between him and Bellatrix with a strange look in her eye. Did she know something?

"Enough!" he snapped not appreciating the mockery. Snatching the photo from Bellatrix's hand, he turned to his mother. "Come. Let us talk in the sitting room."

Without a glance at either witch, he strode angrily to the room he had originally entered knowing his mother would follow. He was right as, when he turned around before the hearth, Merope was close behind.

"Close the door," he orders briskly not hiding the anger that was flowing freely in his voice. "How has Bellatrix been behaving? Has she been treating you with respect?"

"I suppose," Merope replied with hesitation as she stood before him with her head down as if she was the child being scolded. He might feel guilty for his actions later, but now he was too angry to care. "I have no reason to complain."

It was not an answer that mattered. His mother had not had an easy life. While he was not aware of the details, he knew his mother had been abused by her father and uncle so her views on appropriate treatment were lax.

"Are you sure?" he forcefully questioned again.

"I am fine," she repeated refusing to look at him.

Sighing audibly he supposed that was as good as could be expected. "Inform me straight away if she is not."

Finally his mother looked up, but it was only to smile slightly. "Thank you."

It was always strange to find a way to respond when his mother said that. It made him feel more awkward than anything else.

It was better to not linger on the feeling.

"I need to talk to Bellatrix." Briskly he turned and left her to return to the kitchen.

Bellatrix had changed places. Instead of sitting down she was leaning against the bench staring out at the night sky and toying with the rim on a glass.

"Bellatrix," he said with disapproval as he approached her. "My mother informs me she has no reason to complain about your conduct. I half expected I would be here to throw you out."

Like a cat that had got the canary, she smirked as she turned to face him, leaning leisurely and cockily back on the bench. "Come on Tom why do you not trust me?"

"For many reasons." His tone was tense while she was playful. He knew the warning signs enough to keep a few feet of distance between them. "I want your word you will continue to treat her with respect."

Without a care she just waved him away. "Fine, fine. What is happening at the Ministry?"

That was at least a conversation Tom felt more comfortable with. "Chaos mostly," he said a little more calmly. "Malfoy was appointed as treasurer and they are still on the hunt for you."

Laughing she settled against the bench. "And the support behind Dumbledore and Grindelwald is falling?"

"It seems that way."

"Finally."

He murmured his assent thoughtlessly. Carelessly he turned his back on her as he moved to leave. "I will see you in the morning."

"Are you staying the night?" From Tom's ears he thought she seemed hopeful, but when he turned to look at Bellatrix, her expression had not changed. A part of him was pleased by her tone, though quickly he tried to quash that part of him.

"Yes, I plan to transfigure the couch."He ensured his expression was cold to keep his real thoughts hidden. "I want to test if you really are acting like I asked."

"Tom..." Bella trailed off but he did not bother replying. With a twist of his heel he left her alone.

* * *

Tom had been true to his word.

Without fuss and without assistance from anyone, he had transfigured the lounge in the sitting room into a comfortable double bed. With the house only consisting of two rooms it was his only option, but, since it was only one night, he was not complaining.

Settling into the transfigured bed not long after midnight, he was more thankful than ever that he was such a light sleeper.

He had closed the door before and the only light was flickering from the hearth for her refused to sleep in total darkness. With his eyes closed, he was slowly drifting off when the tell tale slight creaking of a door opening reached his ears.

Within a moment, he was sitting bolt upright and facing the figure of Bellatrix.

Shutting the door carefully behind her she walked quietly to the side of his transfigured bed.

"What are you doing?" he snapped with anger and more than a little bit of sleep in his voice. He had not forgotten the comments from his mother, her mockery over the photos and, now, the intrusion of his privacy.

"I think you know why, Tom." She tried to smile coyly as her hand reached for the covers he had pulled tight to his neck, but, before she had a chance, his wand was pointed directly at her face.

"Get out," he ordered coldly, his voice like the bite of a deadly viper.

She did not stop.

"Tom," she pleaded as she reached again.

This time he acted.

Grabbing her arm almost hold enough to break it, he pushed her away from him.

"Enough acting the whore. Get out."

Her face flushed pink in the dwindling light from the flames; he did not care if it was from anger of humiliation. He thought she might even argue, though she wisely took the point and turned and left. The force of the door slamming was enough to make the plaster above flicker dust onto the carpet.


	8. Mice Still Notice

Onto the new chapter where we hear from Merope for the first time and the tensions between Tom and Bella continue.

* * *

The next morning both parties were filled with thoughts of the others night; most of which were predominantly negative. After a breakfast where no one talked and little was eaten, Riddle returned to England leaving Bellatrix alone in France with Merope.

It was not too unpleasant. Bellatrix still possessed the view that she had been reduced to the appalling conditions of poverty, but at least the other woman she was forced to inhabit this house with did not bother her. Merope would only silently go about her daily duties and, without complaint, she would cook meals and do chores for Bellatrix. If Bella ever criticised her, it would only result in a dull eyed stare and perhaps an apology.

Sometimes Bella wondered if she only irked the woman just to wait and see Riddle explode when he returned to check what was occurring.

However, if boredom and a dull companionship was the only thing that she had to contend with she would have been alright.

It was not.

The entire situation ate at her.

She was realising how much she was relying on a person she continued to loathe; Tom Riddle provided her accommodation, Tom Riddle provided her with safety, Tom Riddle provided her with food, Tom Riddle provided her with clothes and Tom Riddle provided her with news from England.

Without him she was not sure what she would do. If he turned her out and made her fend for herself, she would have nothing.

The feeling of being powerless and helpless was more severe that it had ever been in her life.

Even then, she might have been alright if it was not for the other night.

Bellatrix had offered herself to him. The stupid half blood upstart should be grateful that a pureblood like herself would ever think about someone like him. Like she had done hundreds of times before, she had given him a chance for a taste of something that he was not worthy of.

He had turned her away.

He had rebuffed her attempts and called her a slut.

The insult should have meant nothing, but it did.

She should never think about him with any kind of affection, but she did.

So she was left alone in her improper thoughts about an improper man. Every day she swore she would never think about him fondly or think about how she wanted him.

She still did.

She could at least make one vow- she would not act.

* * *

Tom had at least not lied when he said he would return.

Exactly ten days after his last visit, Bella had been upstairs in the room provided to her furiously scribbling a letter to Narcissa seemingly without reason; she knew the only way she could send it was via Tom and there was no way she was in the mood to rely on him for something else.

She had left her door open for the air to drift through, but it also meant voices could trickle in too.

"Tom," she heard Merope say loudly.

The only response she heard was a softer and muffled voice, but she could still decipher who had spoken- Riddle. It was all she heard. Perhaps it was because they had spoken quieter or the door had been shut.

Glaring at her letter, a huge drop of ink splattered down the bottom of the parchment. She did not even wipe it away as she continued to write even more furiously

* * *

It was very appealing to just avoid Riddle. She had been very tempted. She might have if she was not so proud and so determined she would not be beaten by him.

As such, when she heard Merope call upstairs that dinner was ready, Bella had strode proudly into the kitchen without even a glance at him.

She did not say a word as the meal, steak and mash potatoes, was placed before her. Riddle only added a small word of thanks to his mother himself but, other than that, it was reduced to a meal filled with awkward silence.

The only time she could not help but cast a fleeting look at Riddle, she could have sworn she saw him staring at her.

* * *

The only positive Bellatrix could take from the entire experience was she had stuck by her word.

She was proud that she had mostly avoided him. If she had to swear off sex to sustain her pride she would.

It was the same motto she used the next few times he arrived.

In the next two weeks, Tom made his appearance five times. She refused to speak to him and he at least seemed to act the same way. Though, he did leave Prophet Articles and, on one occasion, even a short and sharp letter with some brief details about how their plans were progressing.

Only, on this occasion, things had been different.

The start had been the same: She had stayed upstairs until a silent dinner had progressed. However, after, the changes began.

Upstairs in her room, she had been idly charming two coat hangers to battle against each other in the air above, when there was a knock at her door. Most of her hoped it was Merope, but, when she called for the person to enter, the face of Tom Riddle was revealed.

She did not say anything.

Laying on her bed, with her knees half up pulling her transfigured nightgown to sit high on her leg and leaving her bare feet resting on the quilt, she turned her head to face him with a look of expectation. She wanted to demand why he was there. Instead, in a rare moment for her, she chose to wait.

Finally, after several moments of tense silence and lingering gazes, Tom step forward to the bed in a strange role reversal from the previous week.

Long fingered hands stretched out and one rested against the gauzy fabric of her nightgown.

She should have told him to get out just like he had done, but the slight movement had sent eruptions through her body.

Fingers slowly drew circles over the fabric steadily travelling higher and lower as Tom joined her on the bed. He did not wait for any sign of recognition vocally or by action, but crashed his lips brutally against her own as his other hand snaked up her thigh to grip the band of her underwear.

It was only then that she acted.

She was undeniably aroused with his effective teasing and a lingering attraction to him that still existed. His lips seemed to fit so well against hers, but that was not enough.

There was something deeper there.

She could not forget the other week.

Without any warning, she drove her elbow hard between his crotch.

For all Tom swore he was, he crumpled like any other man. Gasping in pain, he flinched back clutching the spot of his troubles.

"I refuse to be your toy or slut to play with Riddle," she snarled as she drew herself onto her knees and, with a hard shove, she pushed him off the bed. "Now fuck off!"

Still with his face ashen with pain, Tom had enough self preservation to find his feet and to shoot a venomous glare as he turned on his heel and left.

* * *

Her brother had used to call her a mouse. Despite not seeing the brother who had abused her in more than fifty years, that nickname had never been forgotten by her.

Probably as she knew it was still accurate.

She was a mouse. She was a mouse who ran around with her tail between her legs and who never stood up or made too much of a sound.

However, mice still had eyes and ears, so she noticed everything.

While she had not said anything to Tom, she remembered Lestrange's words the first time she arrived about the type of relationship she had with her son.

It had not given her a strong opinion of the woman.

The term floozy had come to mind more than once, especially knowing she was married and witnessing her outrageous behaviour towards her son.

He was too good for her. Her precious Tom could have anyone in the world, but he had settled for someone as vile as her.

The first time Tom had come and visited the both of them, she could not help but be a little pleased by what happened as it was obvious Tom was shunning Lestrange like he should.

Over his next few visits, he started to show Lestrange attention again. Steadily Tom had cast a few more glances at her and asked her the most subtle questions about Lestrange that she swore she would not have recognised their significance if she was not his mother.

Then, after another night, it had all gone.

He was back to shunning her and Lestrange was shunning him.

Merope knew she was missing most of the story, though it did not bother her too much as no one ever told her anything anyway.

She was at least happy Tom had stopped settling.

It was only after three months sharing her home with Lestrange that things changed yet again.


	9. Dead?

Onto our new chapter. In advance I should just warn everyone that I have a busy couple of weeks ahead of me at Uni so the next chapter may take a little longer than I would prefer.

* * *

Tom stood tall and firm as he stood in the vibrant and pulsing Diagon Alley in the midst of a crowd of citizens and Ministry workers. Standing to the side of a raised platform, Tom focused on the tall and greying figure of Lord Grindelwald. He was imposingly, but Tom refused to be intimidated.

He had no reason to be.

It was all too simple. Unbeknownst to the two Lords, the flood of support by powerful purebloods was dwindling, so the once stern and impenetrable fortress was shaking. It could tumble and Tom knew how to make it collapse completely.

He just had to wait to make his final move.

This was one move that he had been waiting for.

Grindelwald was positioned on an elevated simple wooden platform framed in ribbons and spectators all eager to see one of their leaders. The crowd did not know, but it would be their last chance to see him.

Aurors were posited at the corners of the stage as protection with the job to leap before any curse aimed at their Lord. Today they would not do that. Each had been selected by the Imperiused Mulciber and confounded to stay out of the way.

Everything was set.

A pawn could slay a king when it was directed by another king.

Standing in the side corner of the stage, no one, but Tom registered the movements of a plain brown haired mudblood. He knew she was Imperiused, yet no one else would. Jostling her way through the crowd with hard elbows and a passionate gaze, she made her way to the very front of the stage. Slowly she slid her wand from her pocket and aimed it at Grindelwald.

At the same time that the Killing Curse soared from her wand and contacted with the aging man, Tom ended the Imperius Curse.

Loud and panicked screams left the crowd as the beared face of Grindwald was struck in the chest and crumpled like rubble. It was only after another moment that most of the crowd turned and headed backwards, trammelling each other in their rush to escape the alley. Only Tom Riddle stepped forward, raised his voice and restored calm over the audience.

It was so simple.

* * *

The past months had established to Tom that Bellatrix was more irksome than he could have ever predicted. Not only did the stupid bitch insist on wallowing in her arrogance, but she thought she could attempt to belittle and control him even though she would be nothing without him. After having her behaviour tossed in his face, he had concluded that it was easier to just ignore her and provide any information she needed in writing because she was too intolerable to actual hold a bearable conversation with.

Having gained an opportunity to leave the chaotic ministry, Tom seized it and entered his mother's home in France.

Despite his negative thoughts towards the woman, she deserved to know this information. He could have left the news in a letter, yet, the surge of enthusiasm from his success and the strain over having to contain his merriment, made him want to speak. If nothing else, Bellatrix could be counted on to share his enthusiasm.

Striding out from the living room which he had flood into, he did not stop and headed straight up the creaking stairs. He suspected Bellatrix he would be upstairs like she always was. He supposed that was a positive. It was better for her to be there than for her to be irritating his mother.

Reaching her room, he did not even bother knocking; she did not deserve that respect. Instead he pushed the door open without a word.

He was greeted by the sight of Bellatrix's back; her tangles of black hair hanging almost sopping wet and causing droplets of water to leak onto the carpet as she stared at herself in a mirror wearing nothing more than one of his mother's fluffy green towels.

At the sound, she turned swiftly on her bare foot, her face contorted into anger and shock. "Riddle!" she shouted furiously, pulling the towel more securely around herself. "What are you doing? Get out!"

He did not comply. Flinging the door securely closed behind him, he only smirked confidentially as he walked a little further into the room. "No."

"Get out!" she demanded again. He could see that she did not appreciate behind found in such a vulnerable spot by the way her eyes flicked to her wand that was well out of reach on her bedside table.

He had only intended to deliver his message, but seeing her wrapped tightly in a towel that was too short and exposed most of her long shapely legs was causing other urges to become more apparent. He was very tempted to wrench that towel from her and fuck her against the wardrobe, but he had more self preservation than that.

His pride was still wounded from the last time he had attempted to get what he wanted.

"I have news from Britain," he said softly as he sat strangely straight backed on the end of her bed. "I thought you would like to hear it."

Always excelling at picking a liar, he noticed a flicker of interest enter in her dark eyes before she attempted to feign interest by turning away from him and back to the mirror. "I don't care. Tell me later."

"Even if it is about Grindelwald," he replied smugly as he watched her towel covered figure tense. "Even if it is something you really want to hear about Grindelwald."

"How do you know what I want to hear about Grindelwald?" she snapped, still facing away from him. He did not even bother mentioning that, since they had been working together for so long, of course he knew how she felt about Grindelwald.

Unable to contain his joy, he allowed a genuine smile to slide over his features. "So you do not want to be told that he is dead?"

This time she turned around. "He is dead?" she repeated her voice quiet and unbelieving. "Lord Gellert Grindelwald is dead?"

"Yes," he replied smugly skipping over his usual dead pan expression to instead smile brightly. "I Imperiused a girl in the crowd at his speech in Diagon Alley this morning. She sent out a Killing Curse and, just like that, the so called great lord was dead."

"Dead..." she trailed off as if tasting the word.

"Dead."

It was like flicking on a switch. "Dead!" she cried a large and slightly manic grin flashing onto her features as she bounced up and down on the spot causing two other things to bounce. "Oh Merlin finally dead!"

He watched in amusement as he found his feet, careful to avoid her flailing and excitable arms. "Dead. No longer will we have to worry about Gellert Grindelwald. We all know that Grindelwald had the most support, particularly from purebloods. Dumbledore never had that appeal. His support will drop rapidly and then-"

"You killed him-" Bellatrix interrupted, still smiling and still trying to grasp the situation. "It was you."

"Yes," he said in a tone that made it clear he thought she was a fool for having to ask again. He was a little irritated at having been interrupted. "Obviously since I cast the Imperius Curse."

It seemed to be enough for Bellatrix.

Unable to control her twitching limbs she finally found an outlet. Before he could flinch, she suddenly took a step towards him and kissed him passionately. Breath momentarily blown away, he allowed himself to be pushed back onto the bed. All the while Bellatrix's lips never lifted from his own.

Admittedly he was still annoyed, but the combination of his previous delight from Grindelwald's death and his pure desire for the woman did not make him consider pushing her away.

With a cocky gleam in her eyes, Bellatrix lifted her lips from his. It was only to give them both some momentarily breathing time as she roughly undid his tie and threw it to the ground before she settled her mouth against his neck and worked on the buttons of his robes. He only pushed himself a little further in the bed as her tongue trailed down his now exposed chest and stomach until she made it to the waistband of his briefs. Lightly she brushed her tongue just above the line of his underwear and he was not ashamed to admit his arousal was starting to show.

"Bellatrix," he half moaned and half warned as she continued her teasing.

She only smirked, obviously enjoying herself. "Yes Tom?" she questioned as she slid back up his body leaving him throbbing with want. "You seem annoyed?"

She kissed him lightly and teasingly, but he had quite enough. Lightly tugging on her hair, he wrenched the towel from her body as he increased the passion of the kiss and flipped her over so he was now pinning her against the bed.

Rubbing himself against her inner thigh, he heard her let out a small gasp. "What is wrong, Bellatrix?" he questioned with a matching smirk as he trailed his hands down to her stomach and only briefly skated his fingers over her wet and warm flesh. "You seem annoyed."

Her eyes were filled with longing and he was fairly confident the look in his eyes was the same as he settled his hands between her legs. "Oh blood Merlin, Tom," Bellatrix moaned arching up into his fingers. "Tom!"

It was so arousing to hear her like that and, even before she had finally moved her hands to where he wanted them, he was already half hard.

He had more control than Bellatrix, but not by much as, despite his clenched teeth, the briefest and slightly gasps and heavy breathing escaped his lips.

He could hardly wait any longer and thrust into her.

Both breathing heavily in the afterglow, he rolled off her, but he did not move away as his arms crept around her waist and pulled her close. He did not say anything but absently ran his hands through her hair more content by today's success and the woman in his arms.

She recovered faster than he did.

Pushing herself off his chest, she stared into his eyes. "How long now?" she questioned as if it was something she had wanted to say for a long time.

"Soon," he murmured absently, not releasing his grip on her waist. He was not half as concerned by the future as she was. He already knew what he had to do so there was little need for discussions. He would have preferred to just lay there with her and drift off to sleep. It was the most comfortable he had been in months.

"It had better be," she retorted a little fiercely as she pushed his hands away and stood up to dress.

He did not do anything, but settled his hands behind his head and watched her. It would certainly be soon.


	10. Justice

Sorry for the longer than expected absence, but I have now entered this fic for the Long Haul Competition at HPFC. This means you will be guaranteed to get updates every week from now on.

Enjoy

* * *

Merope did not like the new changes. Just like before she noticed them erupt before her eyes. After Tom had told her of his success in England, she had recognised the alteration in Tom's schedule. Tom's visits seem to multiply and he did not always speak to her the moment he arrived. As well, the couch, which he had taken to transfiguring into a bed, seemed to remain unaltered.

She was not silly she knew what had happened.

She was not happy about it, but she could not do anything so she merely sat on the sidelines and watched and waited.

Tom would come to his sense again.

* * *

One of the best things Bellatrix had noticed about France was that it was not as cold as England. Regardless, on some nights, the chill still threatened to seep into her bones. Tonight was one of those nights as she drew the woollen blankets tight around her slim frame hoping there would be a relief from the cold or that she could sleep.

Only one request was granted.

At the sound of her door opening, she turned and was not surprised to find Tom striding in.

The past few weeks had reflected yet another change. She did not want to admit it, but Riddle was at least proving himself a good companion. If he was not retelling her of the events occurring in England, they were normally in bed together. What had started as a few flings a year ago was intensifying, but, since it would only an alliance for work and a companion in her bed, Bellatrix was not too bothered by the situation.

It worked rather well.

As long as he continued to treat her as he should.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," he greeted oddly curt as he often did to try and mask his emotions. Making his way to the bed, he did not even light any of the lanterns as he sat down on the side without permission.

She did not bother answering. Stretching her arms above her head, she watched as he bent down and undid his shoes in the dim light that was emitting from the hearth.

"What is happening in England?" she inquired as she always did when he appeared. He did not answer. Now free of his shoes and outer robes, he turned and faced her. Seizing her by the jaw, he kissed her expressing the desire that surged through him without words.

'_Oh well'_, Bellatrix thought as she shrugged out of her nightdress and pulled him closer towards her, '_she would ask him later'. _Besides, the problem of the cold was rapidly alleviating itself.

Moaning loudly as his hands had free reign over her body, she knew why she was not annoyed at Tom. He was so wonderful with his hands. She was particularly appreciative of his very long fingers when they slipped inside of her. Arching and bucking into his hands, his lips only did a partial job of masking the sounds of pleasure.

When he pulled away for a brief moment to free himself, she did not do anything but tug himself closer and match his movement with her hips.

* * *

"Now tell me what is happening in England," Bellatrix insisted once she had recovered enough to speak as she leaned on her forearms and stared into his face. His hands were securely around her waist and he was still breathless so she jumped on her chance to get the information she wanted and needed.

"It is progressing well," Tom replied his voice strangely relaxed as he lay on her pillows and even managed a small smile. "As I said, the support for Dumbledore is fading. The purebloods all knew he was a blood traitor. He is trying to keep a middle ground, but his previous relationship with Grindelwald means that most mudbloods have no reason to trust him-"

"Who would have thought the mudbloods would ever be right about something?" she interrupted with a smirk as she felt him tense underneath her at being cut off. She did love to rile him up. She could not have him being too comfortable. He might think she actually cared.

"Yes..." he said softly as his lips twitched in irritation. She only smirked at his reaction as she idly traced shapes on his skinny chest with her finger. "They won't support him for much long. I know that. It will only take some reminding that he cannot be trusted then he will either be forced out or stubbornly hold his position."

Bellatrix arched an eyebrow at his words as one obvious answer slithered into her mind. "Why don't you just kill him?" she questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It is not so simple," he stated rather like she was a child. "How can I justify killing the Minister? No, everything has to be justified."

"No one needs to know it was you. It can be quite simple. It is only Dumbledore."

Tom's eyebrows rose upwards as he twisted his lips with irritation. "Only Dumbledore? Do you have any sense? His power-" Bellatrix issued a loud tut, though ignored her and continued. "Yes, his power is extreme and profound. He can be defeated, but it is hardly that simple."

She groaned loudly and rolled off him to stare at the ceiling. "Then what is your brilliant plan?"

"To justify the killing. To ensure that every drop of pureblood that is spilt in blamed on him. To make it seem like he is ruining pureblood society. To make him the villain."

She was sceptical as she turned to him again. "How?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head," he said with a smirk and Bellatrix did not at all appreciate being patronised. "I will handle it."

"I would worry a lot less if you weren't such a prick."

Tom chuckled and she turned away in irritation.

"Good night, Bella."

"Fuck off Tom."

* * *

The Atrium below was crowded and as bustling as always as hundreds of witches and wizards chatted and rushed to whatever task they had to accomplish For them life was so easy. It was not a matter of choosing what was right over love or choosing how to honour a loved one by continuing his work or seeking vengeance.

In an uncharacteristic occasion, Albus was actually unsure.

Turning to face the other man in the room, his bright blue eyes hidden behind square spectacles swept over the man behind his desk. Despite being older than fifty, Tom Riddle still had all his black hair, his attractive features and charismatic presence that reminded Albus of Gellert.

"Are you sure about this?" Albus inquired as he looked down at the open roll of parchment on his desk. "Are you sure it is correct?"

"Of course," Tom said smoothly as he straightened himself in the purple velvet chair. "It is perfectly accurate. Every name has been double and triple checked. It surprised me immensely but of course so did what happened to poor Lord Grindelwald."

He shook his head sadly and, at the barest mention of Gellert, Albus lowered his eyes rather than expose the bottomless pits of loss at the loss of his friend, his partner and his lover. Albus still remembered him as he was so long ago with bright eyes, an infectious smile and rivers of golden hair. He could still remember the leaps in his stomach at the sight of his impish grin and it had only stopped leaping a few weeks ago.

Gellert had inspired him like no one else. They had encouraged and argued against the other but, in the end, they had been a moderating force and established society the way things should be. They had taken account of blood status and looked after muggleborns, though in a kind and humane way.

But now he was gone.

One moment he was standing by him in the office and the next he was staring down at his friend lying still in a mortuary his now neat grey hair catching in the light, his blue eyes closed and his infectious grin lost forever.

He could not allow it to be the end of story. He could not allow justice to not transpire.

"I assume you are suggesting that it was more than the work of that woman," he said his voice soft as he stared down at his pointed fingers. "That there are more people who are responsible."

"Yes," Tom replied firmly and, even though Albus did not look up, he saw the finger pointing at the parchment. "I would not expect you to believe me without proof, my Lord, but it is all there- all the names and all of the links to this most terrible crime."

Looking up, Albus' eyes were shinning with unshed tears, but he forced himself to smile. "You do not need to worry, Tom. I believe you."

In their long period of rule both Albus and Gellert had picked pupils to mentor and tutor. Tom had stood out to Gellert from the outset, yet Albus had always been unsure. He had assumed there was something unsettling about him and that he could not be trusted. However, the years had made him warm towards the man who had been nothing less than a solid and dedicated worker.

"Thank you, Sir," Tom said with a curt nod. "I understand it is hard. That the political consequences for carrying out justice on these men may be hard, but we must do what is right."

Albus echoed the nod by Tom. "Yes Tom, we must. Send up Mr Mulciber and I will issue the orders."

"Thank you Sir," Tom repeated as he stood to leave.

Albus nodded once more before he turned his back on Tom to finally allow the tears of loss to shed down his crocked nose.

He did not notice the triumphant smile that had slithered onto Tom's face.


	11. Fire, Joy and Something Darker

Rodolphus felt like he was standing on the precipice of something he did not want to understand. Residing in his new office in the upper floor of the Ministry, he felt strangely ill as he watched the Atrium awash with scarlet robed Aurors.

It did not feel right.

He was one of the many who suspected that the death of Lord Grindelwald was the product of more than one mad and pathetic mudblood, but to think that the people arrested were behind his death was preposterous. His blue eyes focused down on a man with a blonde head of hair who seemed to be walking with the two guards that held him while turning from side to side as if he was looking for an escape or merely trying to argue.

It was Rabastan.

Throughout their life the two brothers had always been close and to think he had been responsible for the assassination without mentioning anything to him seemed impossible to Rodolphus. Not only was his brother loyal to the cause, but there was no way he would have done anything other than serve Lord Grindelwald faithfully.

It was as if someone had set them up.

There was no evidence to back up his ideas. If it was not just Rabastan arrested he might have thought it was a mere error, yet it was not. In that same day their uncle, the Carrows and young Avery had also been arrested with the same crime.

It unnerved him more than he cared to admit, especially when after his uncle and brother's arrest there was only one more Lestrange left in the Ministry...

Tightening his grip on his wand, he sunk into his chair and waited for news or something worse.

* * *

It was worse.

Without a knock or any kind of pleasantries, the door to his office burst open to reveal four red robed figures. Rodolphus did not allow himself to flinch as he rose to his full height.

"What are you doing here, Mulciber?" he questioned cautiously to the new Head of the Aurors. "I can only hope you have an explanation for blasting into a man's office without leave to do so."

"I have leave," he replied as he straightened himself to his full height and withdrew a thick stack of parchment. "Here the order for your arrest signed by Lord Dumbledore himself."

Rodolphus' eyes hardened and his grip on his wand tightened. He could try and flee, but it was pointless and, if he succeeded, it would only result in him being ostracised from society. He would be freed, but not in this way. He would comply and then take revenge for these actions another day.

Lifting his wand and causing the Aurors to withdraw their own weapons, he did nothing other than to place the wood on his desk and step forward innocently.

"Fine, but when this mistake is fixed up I will have your head," Rodolphus sneered as ropes appeared out of nowhere and bound his hands tightly. "I promise you that."

Mulciber only tensed slightly. No doubt he had heard such phrases and threats a number of times that day. "We shall see. Now come on Lestrange it is Azkaban for you."

Barely resisting hissing a threat, he complied and allowed himself to be marched out of his office. Stepping over threshold, he pulled himself to his impressive height and ensured he had the perfect presentation despite the chaffing ropes on his wrist as he was led down the corridor filled with important ministry officials. Some of the workers were standing outside their doors watching, including Riddle.

He could not help but focus his eyes on him and present him with an icy glare.

Perhaps it was still the anger that simmered under his skin after discovering him with Bella, yet it was so easy to blame him for all his problems and suspect him of being involved in this treachery.

* * *

If it was not such an out of character thing for Tom to do in such a public place he would surely have laughed in delight at the sight before him.

The Atrium was packed to bursting and a wooden stage had been put up against the Fountain of Magical Brethren, but Tom would not have been surprised if the statues came alive and attacked the man on the platform.

"People please!" The once great Albus Dumbledore cried in desperation as he tried to raise his hands to the crowd. "Please be rational. It is all nece-"

"Only so you can take over!" roared one particularly irate woman at the front of the crowd over Dumbledore's words.

"So you can crush purebloods and institute filth like you in their place," screamed another man in the middle.

"Probably killed Lord Grindelwald himself," accused another man in thick glasses.

"My sons are in Azkaban!" snarled a woman her voice oddly soft, but she was standing close enough to the front for Tom to hear Persephone Lestrange's accusations. "They were innocent and now they are rotting in prison like so many others."

Those near Mrs Lestrange roared their approval as the crowd descended on the stage shaking the platform and some tried to crawl up. Standing to the side, Tom's eyes gleamed with pleasure as the first man reached the platform. He was joined by another in quick succession.

Dumbledore had no choice. He fired off a stunner slamming into the man and throwing him onto the floor below. The crowd screamed in outrage and another surged forward. Dumbledore attacked again with a stunner throwing the man over the edge.

Tom knew he could have killed the two men and that was enough of an excuse for Tom to intervene. Stepping out from the side of the stage, he raised his own wand. Half behind Dumbledore he did not even pause. As the crowd roared with delight a Killing Curse surged out of his wand and hit Dumbledore in the back. He did not even see the attack.

He only crumpled.

Masking his face into a sorrowful expression he saw the crowd let out a stream of pleasure. He amplified a voice. "You need not worry," he said his voice echoing around the Atrium, "You are all free."

* * *

As the most senior Ministry official remaining he naturally slid into the role as leader. More than that, the scene in the Ministry where he seemed to protect the masses and take out an evil dictator, meant that he was considered a hero.

It was perfect.

All his plans had come to fruits.

Sinking in a chair for the first time in what felt like hours, he smiled to himself as his eyes swept over what had been Dumbledore's office.

It was now his.

Everything was now his.

Power was finally in his hands.

Despite that there was the strangest doubt slithering into his mind that something was missing, his lips twitched into a smile now that he was blissfully alone. He should have been fine submerged into his own solitude but there was something else he desired.

He was not the only one who should share this victory.

Everything at the Ministry would be fine for several hours.

Rising, he turned and walked out of his office to the comfort in France.

* * *

Stepping out of the roar of green flame Tom was more than a little surprised to find he almost walked into Bellatrix who was laying leisurely on the lounge; her head on a cushion and her long shapely legs resting over the opposite arm rest.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped before he could help himself masking his own surprise by accusing her.

Bellatrix only smirked and did not make any attempt to move. "You invited me here, remember. Did you suffer some sort of memory loss?"

She was so frustrating and so arrogant. He would have liked nothing more than to slap the smile off her face. "I meant in the sitting room," he snarled quietly as he dusted the soot of his robes. "Not the house."

"Oh well that," she drawled still cheerily. "Well there is nothing stopping me from being here."

He could have argued with her, but it was pointless. Instead he merely glared at her and turned to the entire reason he was here.

"If you stop being such a bitch, I might tell you why I'm here." She raised an eyebrow but made no attempt to move or to shift her disposition.

"I get it Riddle your horny and you expect me to bow to your desires. If you expect me to automatically jump you when you say-"

"Dumbledore is dead," he interrupted rather than listen to her ramblings. "It is done. The Ministry has fallen."

For one moment in which Bellatrix blinked at him rapidly it seemed to take a while to comprehend the information until a smile lit her features and she threw herself up and into his arms. Her lips pressed against his and he had no desire to push her off. He only held snaked his arm around her waist and held her flush against him.

It was a combination of the two topics they did not argue about.

As she pulled her lips away from him their grins mimicked each other's; alike with fire, joy and something darker. "Take me back now," she murmured her nails digging slightly into his neck. "Right now."

"Soon," he replied as he looked down at her calmly. "I need to sort out a few things and-"

"No," she snapped cutting him off and sinking her nails harder into his skin. "Now!"

He only chuckled and did not flinch despite the suspicion that she had probably made him bleed. "I suppose I could fast track some work and have you safe to return by the morning but why should I?"

Her eyes gleamed before her hands around his neck disappeared and she slid down her body so she was on her knees. The sight of powerful and proud Bellatrix so submissive before him was enough of an aphrodisiac before she had even undone his robes.

He would have arranged for her to be back relatively quickly, but he did not deny he was particularly appreciate of her attempts at persuasion.


	12. Old Prophets and Red Wine

Bella could safely say she had never packed so quickly in her life. It did not matter that she had only thrown the few items she had collected while she was in France into a bag. She was just desperate to get out of the prison that they called a house.

Tom had said he would come to get her, but, after waiting half the morning, she left without him. Grabbing, her small satchel she tossed the green dust into the fire place and called, "Lestrange Manor." Stepping inside the green flames, her body twisted and turned in the grate until she arrived in the sitting room of her home.

It had not changed.

The antique couches were the same; without a trace of dust, mess or any evidence of humanity.

She could not even hear any noise from the rest of the manor. Obviously she was the only one home.

It was a shame. She would have liked to confront Rodolphus.

Smirking to herself at the thought of what she would do to Rodolphus when she found him, she ventured upstairs to reclaim her home.

* * *

Reclining on her bed with a stack of old prophets from the days she had missed beside her, her mood had been flipping rapidly from pleasure to frustration. She enjoyed the tales of Grindelwald and Dumbledore's fall, but some stories were disconcerting and put her on edge.

It was probably the wrong time for Tom to show his face.

"You didn't wait for me," Tom snapped obviously irritated as he slinked through her bedroom doorway without an invitation.

"And you didn't consult me!" she growled just as fiercely as she hurled the paper across the room. It did not get very far. It only travelled a slight distance in the air before the individual pieces drifted to the ground.

Tom was unfazed. It only made her more annoyed. Maybe if he was just as angry and as worked up as she was, she might have calmed down. He only glanced down at the headline of the paper on the ground and chuckled. "I was unaware you desired your husband's presence or that you were foolish enough to not realise the significance and the necessity of his imprisonment."

"It was not just your decision," she said as she continued to argue despite possibly sounding like a child. "You make it seem like only your opinion matters. It does not."

"Your stubbornness is only blinding your ability to see that I am correct."

She sneered and continued to glare at him from where she lay on her bed. "We shall see. You will not have free control over the Ministry. I will be there on Monday Morning"

Again, he was unaffected by her declaration.

"_We shall see_, but for now you are due somewhere else. This evening your sister and Lucius are hosting a celebration in honour of the new future for the Ministry in the guise of a Halloween Party. You are expected there."

"A party?" It was a peculiar thing to hear from him, but she did not complain. "Fine I will be there."

He nodded curtly. "Good, until then."

Turning on his heel, he turned and left. Her eyes lingered over his departing back as she sighed.

With all that was happening she could have done without one of her sister's parties.

* * *

Dressed in one her tight red dresses, she stepped into the Entrance Hall of Malfoy Manor with her head held high and her stride long and without a shred of hesitation. She was aware of the glances directed at her, but she did not care. She only smirked in amusement.

Evidently her infamy had increased; positive or negative she did not care.

Her eyes skated over the figures milling around the area searching for a particular crop of blonde hair.

In hindsight she did not need to bother looking.

"Bella!" exclaimed a familiar voice that was normally composed but now it was unusually loud and excited. "You are here!"

As she turned on her spiky heels she almost expected Narcissa to throw all decorum to the winds and to embrace her, but her sister maintained her composure and instead she crossed the floor only at a slightly quicker pace than normal.

"I am," she replied with a genuine smile as her sister wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek before she stepped away. "I have returned."

"I had thought you might, but I wasn't sure..." she trailed off slightly before you offered her arm. "Come on I'll tell you what you have missed."

If it was not Cissy she would have rejected the offer, but looking into her sister's bright blue eyes she could only slide her arm through her sister's. "Just give me the interesting news," she said with an impatient but teasing note in her voice as they set off towards the Malfoy Great Hall. "Not the pointless gossip."

* * *

Bella was surprising herself. By eleven o'clock she had concluded that the party was not dull or boring, but instead it was fantastic. She was sure that summation was based on the party and not based on the two bottles of wine she had drunk.

"Cisssyyy..." she said with a slight slur in her voice as she rested her hand against her sister's shoulder and leaned in her chair towards her. "Did I tell you how much I missed you?"

From her point of view it seemed like Narcissa smiled, though she could well have grimaced or looked at her pityingly. "Once or twice tonight."

"Oh..." she paused for a moment as she tried to remember her point. Strangely, at the moment, it seemed harder to think. "Well I did."

Narcissa smiled once more before she turned back to the conversation she was having with their mother. Of course Cissy was talking to their mother about how Lucius was without any faults. She always had the perfect life and the perfect husband. She never had to worry about her bed being cold.

Bella supposed she might not have to either. Smirking a little, she looked up and spotted Tom across the other side of the room talking to Lucius. Without even considering the consequences, she pushed back her chair and stood. She was not sure why but her legs shook slightly and she pitched forward a little before she recovered herself. She heard the call of her sister, though she ignored her and staggered to the other side of the room to where Tom was.

"Tom!" she called more enthusiastic and slightly louder than she should have as she nearly reached his side. He turned from his conversation to Lucius. If he was irritated she did not notice or care. "Are you going soon?" she murmured into his ear as her hand lightly touched his chest. It was difficult to not slip her fingers lower. "You should go, with me. I have been thinking of having you inside me all night."

He stepped backwards and somehow she was not at all annoyed. "Bellatrix," he warned. There was a note of danger in her voice, though she ignored it. "Behave."

She did not relent. She only reached for him again. He gripped her hand and she only focused on her prize ignoring the impatient cough from Lucius.

Tom might have retorted, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder from Narcissa. "Bella," she said gently. "Maybe it is time for you to go home. You might feel better after you sleep."

"I'm fine!" she snapped automatically as she turned to face her sister. "I feel wonderful!"

"No," Cissy said still more gently. "I'll take you home and-"

Bella was about to retort, but she was stopped by Tom. "But you cannot be expected to leave your guests, Mrs Malfoy," he interrupted politely. "I was just about to leave so I can take her home. It is no trouble."

Bellatrix did not even bother arguing. She only stepped in and leaned into Tom. "He can take me."

She was sure she and Tom could entertain each other rather well when they were alone in bed.

"Bel-" Cissy began but Bella interrupted.

"I will be fine!"

Before anyone could argue, she leaned against Ton and set off towards the exit.

* * *

Bellatrix was not as happy in the morning when woke from the light from the window flooding into the room. Groaning softly, both of her hands clutched her head at the sharp pain that was more apparent now that she was awake. Her mind was fuzzy, there was an unpleasant taste in her mouth and, as she turned over, one feeling became very obvious.

Her eyes snapped open as she tossed her head over the side of the bed and threw up the contents of her stomach. The feeling of acid was strong in her throat and she continued to heave and dry reach for several moments. Concentrating on the unpleasant sensation, she only vaguely felt a hand hold her hair back and lightly rub her back.

Staring down at the mess she had made of the carpet, it was only when a spell vanished the contents of her stomach that she turned to the man who had leaned over the bed to assist her. With the sickly feeling coursing through her, she could only lean back against his frame in exhaustion.

"What in Merlin's name happened?" she murmured quietly, sounding slightly defeated. She did not even bother hiding her naked body. She was just confused and ill.

"Don't you remember?" Tom said softly in her ear as one of his arms curled around her waist to rest against her stomach. "I suppose you did drink a lot..."

She did not argue. Her mind was fuzzy and her memory was even worse. "Not really," she groaned softly.

"Well I had intended to take you home, but you did not stop clinging to me, rushed upstairs to my bedroom and stripped quickly before I could even blink."

She was too out of it to feel embarrassed. She only snipped instead. "So you took adva-"

"I did nothing," he snapped suddenly. "I did nothing. You finally passed out and have been asleep since then."

It did not help her feeling of confusion. Twisting from his grip, she tuned and faced him directly. "So you expect me to believe that you helped me for no reason other than you wanted to be kind?"

Tom hesitated before he answered. Even he looked confused. "Yes."

Both had the same question at the forefront of their mind: _Why?_

Neither had an answer


	13. Unwelcome Reminders

Bellatrix was pleased she had planned to meet Narcissa on Sunday rather than the day after the party. After she had woken at Tom's, she had only showered and disappeared quickly. Ill and irritated, she had not been in the mood to talk to anyone. She had not wanted to do anything other than sleep in her own bed.

Pushing open the door to Narcissa's sitting room ten minutes after she was meant to meet her (she would not care if she was late), she smirked at her sister who was delicately perched on the edge of an the ornate lounge.

"Hello, Bella," she greeted with a smile, but her voice seemed colder and tenser than usual. Was her sister really annoyed that she had arrived a little late? Merlin she needed to sort out her priorities. "How are you?"

"Better," she replied trying not to think about how she had felt yesterday. Slinking into the room, she threw herself onto the opposite couch without the grace of her sister. She could have poise if she wanted to, but normally she could not be bothered.

Her sister managed a sly smile. "So, have you recovered?"

Even Bella sighed. "Finally. I was not too well yesterday."

Cissy's lips pursed slightly as she leaned over and started pouring two cups of tea without needing to ask what she liked. "Well you did drink a lot..."

She only rolled her eyes. "Yes, Cissy... I _really_ need a lecture."

"Merely offering advice," she murmured without fear as she passed over a cup of tea. "I would never attempt to tell you what to do."

Bellatrix smirked as she took a sip of her tea; black no sugars just as she liked it. "Good."

Narcissa tried to smile, but she stared into her tea cup for a moment as if lost in thought. "Though I was a little unsure about something..."

Bella sighed and leaned back into her couch just waiting for the lecture. "Just say it Narcissa. I know you will explode if you can't speak your mind."

"Well... I could not help but notice the interaction between you and Tom Riddle..." Bella did not know if it was the furious glare that lit her feature that made Narcissa pause. "It was...strange."

"It was nothing," she snapped angirlyy and defensively before she could help herself. She hated analysing or thinking about her relationship with Tom. She did not need anyone else to mention it.

"But Bella I know what I saw, what everyone saw. It seemed to imply that something is happening..."

"It is nothing!" she repeated her voice louder and more passionate than before.

Her sister did not relent.

"You went home with him," she said trying to keep calm, though there was a note of worry in her voice. "You were practically throwing yourself at him."

Admittedly her memory of that night was not complete, but she could only imagine what she was referring to. Regardless it did not mean what her sister thought it meant. No doubt her sister thought she loved him. If she did, she was wrong. She was sure she did not love him.

She let out a heavy breath before replying. "It is not what you think."

"Then what is it? You cannot tell me you have not slept with him?"

"I have." She tried to not sound embarrassed or regretful. "We have, but that is it."

"How can that be it?"

Bella was not at all surprised that her sister was scandalised. She knew the only person perfect pure Narcissa had slept with was Lucius.

She just shrugged. "He is good in bed. My bed gets cold. It is not as if I love him."

Narcissa was still not convinced as her voice went oddly hushed. "But... he is a half blood."

Bella froze for a moment and blinked once as the anger flared inside her.

Before her sister could say anything, she stood and stormed out. Narcissa called for her to come back.

She ignored her.

She did not need to be reminded of that disgusting fact.

* * *

Her fury at Narcissa morphed itself into anger at the world by Monday. Regardless, she pulled out the business robes that had not been used since she had left England and apparated into the busy and crowded Atrium.

It was the same as when she had arrived at Narcissa's Party. The unanimous gaze of the world was upon her.

Stepping out of the flash of emerald flames, despite the attention, she did not halt. Even when it looked like a scarlet robed Auror was about to step forward, she ignored the man and moved straight to the lift.

It was already occupied. A part from the inevitable interdepartmental memos, her eyes drifted over some unimportant Ministry personnel. One particular red headed man seemed to cringe back from her. She did not care. In fact it almost made her laugh. She only rode the lift up to Level One.

As the cool female voice announced her floor, she stepped out onto the purple carpet.

It was finally a place without the hustle and bustle of the Atrium. She strode down the hallway like she owned the place until she reached a door that still had a plaque with Albus Dumbledore's name imprinted on it. She ignored the blonde secretary and the custom to knock. Instead she merely turned the handle and stepped inside.

Riddle was waiting for her.

Just as calm as always, he looked up from the stacks of parchment lined over the rosewood desk. He did not seem at all bothered by her appearance. He only smirked.

"Feeling better, Bella?"

"Yes, now that I don't have to worry about you plotting alone in the Ministry," she sneered trying to avoid yet another comment about how ill she had been the other day.

Stalking to his desk, she threw himself into the chair opposite him and leaned confidently into the back of the chair.

"You seem like you already have a strong opinion of my leadership."

"I have a right to. This not about just you this is about-"

"Us." He cut in firmly with a knowing look in his dark eyes.

She cringed at the implication of his statement, but she still agreed. "Us. It is about the both of us so I will not allow you to take over yourself."

Tom was not impacted. "How do you expect to do that?"

She was a little unsure, but she refused to back down. "Grindelwald and Dumbledore did this for thirty years. Do not suggest it cannot be done."

"Anything can be done if you will it. Now." Pulling out one of the pieces of parchment that appeared to be organised into neat stacks on his desk, he slid it towards her. "A list of responsibilities and jobs. The stars suggest positions we should share and the others are for deliberation."

Flicking her eyes from the list, she raised her eyebrows. It was not because she disagreed with his list.

It was the opposite.

She agreed completely. It was seemingly too correct and something she thought Tom would not do. She had assumed he would put up a fight about sacrificing any of his power.

He had not.

He must have ulterior motives.

Still with that in mind, she poured over the list and started declaring her preferences.

She did not think it would be so easy to share power with Riddle.

* * *

Despite the positives that should have existed in her position, the negatives were equally as obvious.

Bellatrix had attended meetings in the large conference room opposite the Minister's offices in the past. As Head of the Aurors she had been present during some Cabinet meetings, but that was normally only once a fortnight.

Now there were a lot more that required her attendance.

Avoiding the temptation to sigh, she glanced up from her position at the head of the table. The dark oak wooden table was full of those who had survived her and Tom's cull of the Ministry and those who had been deemed fit to be promoted.

She was quite surprised she and Tom had agreed about their appointments.

Flicking over Lucius' blonde head that was turned towards Tom who sat at the other head of the table, she was not interested. They were in discussions about the current state of the budget. She supposed she could have been annoyed that he was addressing Tom rather than her, but the topic was dull. After all, she had fairly quickly decided to leave the economy to Tom.

He could handle the budget, but there were other matters she had control over.

As Lucius finished up his presentation on the Treasury, she rocked back onto the front legs of her chair and leaned in slightly. "Yes Lucius, thank you for that most illuminating discussion," she drawled as the eyes of the table drifted over her. She was not bothered. "Now we know we are not broke, I think we need to know we are not going to be disposed of in a coup any time soon."

She stared down the table at Tom and Lucius as if she was waiting for them to question her. They did not. Lucius seemed annoyed, but Tom was only smug as he met her gaze with a curl of his lips.

"Mulciber," she barked as she ripped her eyes from Tom and turned to the man half way up the table whose greying hair was tied up in a greasy pigtail. "Tell me the state of public order. Has there been any uprisings that have needed to have been put down by the Department of Law Enforcement."

"It has been quiet," he murmured after a brief pause and a small glance down the front of her robes. She ignored his gaze. "Not too quiet, but nothing to indicate that anything is being planned to displace our position. Anyone who could oppose us is in Azkaban."

There it was- Azkaban. She was not sure how to think about that topic. She had been abused by her mother in law a number of times already and she kept glancing over the list of the imprisoned at Rodolphus' name.

Her respect for him was low and his lack of support for their cause was a source of frustration, but she was not sure if she wanted him to rot in prison forever.

It was just another example of her confused feelings.

"They will not stay there forever," Tom cut into the conversation. "They will face trial. If they are found to be peaceful, they will be released. If not, then they do not deserve the privilege of freedom."

"Of course," she replied surprising herself with her agreement. "It seems a likely solution. When will this occur?"

"It is already being organised. Likely in a month or two."

She nodded. That was satisfactory. "Good." Sweeping her gaze over the table she smirked. "I believe that is all. The meeting is over."

Her mood increased as the table started to prepare to leave. It filled her with glee to have her orders obeyed. It was just how things should be.

Sliding her few papers under her arm, she was one of the first to leave the meeting, but she was soon joined by another.

"What is Tom?" she questioned to the man who was on her elbow as they walked down the corridor to their adjacent officers. "It had better be important."

He smirked with ease. "My my Bella you seem rather annoyed this fine afternoon."

She just glared at him, as she stopped in the empty corridor and turned to him. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Can I not just want to talk?"

She flicked her eyes up and down his face and body as she sized him up. "No," she murmured sceptically. "No that can't just be what you want."

Bella did not give him the chance to reply as she started to walk again.

"You are so sure you are always right," he called to her departing back.

She did not even turn around as she continued walking and called back to him.

"That is because I am. I know you Riddle. Stop trying to convince me you are someone else. I know you are just as selfish prick who does not care about anyone other than himself."

She did not allow him to reply. She only slammed her door behind him.


	14. Anger and Affection

Here we go! This is one of the chapters I have had planned for a long time so I would really like to know what everyone thinks. It is also where I need to remind everyone that this story is focusing on how a different history can impact characters so they will react differently.

Enjoy

* * *

Tom knew that taking over the Ministry would only be half the task. He knew the workload to maintain their position would be intense. He knew it might even be more difficult than the original takeover.

His eyes had hardly stopped scanning parchment, his quill had barely stopped racing over paper and he had hardly stopped conducting meetings.

He knew he was busier than Bella, but he did not delegate to her. Perhaps it was because he liked controlling everything. Perhaps he did not trust her with the work. Perhaps he did not want to upset her by making her too busy.

He preferred considering the first two points.

His teeth clenched down as his quill halted its dance across the parchment. What was he trying to say? He racked his extensive brain, but there was a wall in place. Cursing at himself for his minor blank it was probably a good, or perhaps a bad time, for someone to rap on his door.

"Come in," he called ramming his quill back into the holder with more force than what was necessary.

The grey haired head of his secretary pocked through his door. She was stern, unattractive and cold, but she was affective and that was why he had hired her. "Lucius Malfoy is here to see you, Mr Riddle."

He was still called Mr Riddle. He was tempted to correct her, but he was not even sure if minister was the appropriate title. Maybe he could soon become Lord Riddle like Grindelwald and Dumbledore. He thought My Lord would suit him.

"Send him in," he said his voice composed despite his previous irritation. It was the mask he had to slide on.

Her head disappeared and her position by his door was replaced as Lucius Malfoy stepped into his office. The man did have his faults, but he was an undeniable asset and, for that, Tom would not complain about his presence.

"Good morning, Lucius," he greeted curtly just as they both preferred. Without a wand, he waved his hand and the chair in front of his desk slid out. "Please, have a seat."

Lucius did not comply. His leather boots that were bordered by intricate silver patterns merely clicked on the polished floor as he approached the desk and rested his starchy black gloves against the back of the chair. "You will have to excuse me, Tom, but I will not be taking up that offer," he said his voice tense as if he was battling to maintain and keep something hidden. Tom noticed the tone and felt his body screaming to snap at the disrespect. He did not act. "I have something to discuss with you."

"Then by all means," he murmured keeping himself calm as his dark blue eyes stared into the stony gaze, "discuss away."

If it was another man he might have taken a long time to come to his point.

That was not Lucius.

"You're having an affair with Bellatrix."

For the first time Tom's emotion slipped onto his face as his grip on his desk tightened and his eyes narrowed. It was difficult to try and restore his composure. He did not need for his mannerisms to be analysed.

"I would assume this accusation is based on fact."

"A part from the display at the Halloween Ball?" Tom mentally cursed Bella for her performance as he waited for Lucius to continue. "Bella confessed to Narcissa the other day."

Tom's anger flared. He did not know if it was aimed at Lucius, Narcissa, Bella or even himself. He had never technically discussed with Bella that their affair should be kept quiet, but he assumed Bella would have the common sense to know it should not be discussed.

Ramming his palms into his desk he stood. He was pleased to know, from his height, he was the one looking down at Lucius. "I assume this conversation has a point. I am not accustomed to discussing my personal life with anyone."

Lucius did not flinch. He only seemed to straighten his posture as he glared back at him. "I do not care about your personal life. What I do care about is the survival of this administration. Gossip is spreading about the possibility of your affair and lest I remind you of how-"

"It does not matter," he snapped back his tone severe but he ensured his volume was level. "Everyone knew Dumbledore and Grindelwald were lovers, but that did not harm their rule."

"Grindelwald's blood was never pure enough to qualify him as a pureblood something which he was no doubt aware of when he drafted that particular law. However, you do not have that luxury. Bella is a pureblood and _you _are a half blood and if you continue there is a risk you will be caught and-"

"I'm aware," he snapped cutting off Lucius' speech. "While I appreciate your warning, which I will take as a warning and not as something more severe, be assured I will not be controlled and told how to act."

Lucius' eyebrows narrowed dangerously. "Do not be a fool. Just give up the affair. Why risk anything for her?"

It was difficult to stop himself from striking the other man, but he narrowly did. It was hard to know if his anger was produced by Lucius' words or the implications about what he felt. A part of Tom recognised that he was correct; he should not risk anything for her, but he conceded that he was not really risking anything for her. He would merely warn her and assure they were not discovered. As long as there was no proof they were safe.

"I am not risking anything. Nothing will be discovered or proved."

"Just give her up," Lucius tried to reason, "I know you do not love her."

Something inside Tom snapped. As soon as the words left Lucius' mouth, he froze at the word.

He did not love her.

His hand slid into his pocket and, a moment later, his wand was out and pointed directly between Lucius' grey eyes.

"Get out!"

His arm was outstretched and his threat was unyielding.

Lucius was wise enough to listen to reason. With one last cautious glance, he turned on his heel and left with his robe fluttering behind him.

Seething and hissing under his breath, Tom pushed his abandoned chair out from under him. It toppled to the ground with a bang. He ignored the sound and strode across the polished floor before he rammed the door open. It slammed loudly against the opposite panelled wall and caused his secretary to throw him a concerned look.

He ignored her.

Malfoy was wrong. He had to be wrong. He thought about her because he lusted after her. It was the only reason his heart beat so strongly in her presence.

Striding down the corridor at great pace, it only took him a moment to find his target.

The door in front of him was identical to his office door from ever sheen of the wood and engraving in the surface. There was only one exception; the name. He did not even consider it or the blonde secretary who leaped up in shock at his graceless arrival. He ignored her and the courtesy to knock as he merely swept into Bella's room.

Inside it similarly reflected his room. There were a few exceptions. His desk was meticulously ordered with the few papers that were sorted into neat and orderly piles. Bella's was not. Spare ink pots and quills scattered the surface and papers coated the table in an inch thick layer.

Bella was reclining in her chair, leaning onto her back legs as she looked up from the parchment she was reading at his arrival. She must have seen something in his eyes as she stood and took a few steps around the side of the table.

"Tom, what are you-?" Bella murmured more surprised than annoyed as she rested the tips of her hand on the table.

She did not get a chance to say anything else. Reaching her side, he slammed his lips against hers in a breath taking kiss. She gasped against his mouth, but he ignored it as he deepened the kiss and slid his tongue slowly into her mouth and savoured her taste. His other arm looped around her waist and pulled her hips flush against him.

He vowed he did not love her. The glow and joy that roared through him as her legs wrapped around his waist and he rubbed up against her was only produced by the pleasure of the act. He just wanted her as a woman and as an ally. He wanted to take her hard and fast to leave her bruised to prove he could hurt her.

Without caring about the mess on her table he pinned her against the surface as his hands creeped under her skirt and tugged the stockings; probably hard enough to tear the delicate material. Neither party complained. Bella only shuffled out of her clothing and moaned softly as his fingers teased her delicate flesh.

"Wha- What has gotten into you?" she gasped as his fingers slipped inside her. He interrupted her and kissed her again. He did not want to hear her. He wanted to just think about her body. It was easier that way.

Her back arched as she let out a string of wonderful noises as he continued to coarse her with his fingers. Still her hands stretched out and brushed against his flesh that was already hard. His hands withdrew from her and freed himself and did not pause before he pushed inside of her. She stretched around him with a low moan as he thrust up and into her. He must have hit the right place inside of her as she moaned loudly. He tried to pretend her pleasure didn't matter even as her moans made his heart race.

He continued moving into her, his breath coming out in rattles as his hands dug into the side of her hips. She was looking up at him her voice even louder than his as she pulled him closer and rolled her hips up to him. Her body was tightening wonderfully and, when she finally clenched around him in a finally cry, he followed not long after as he collapsed against her.

"I don't know what has gotten into you," Bella murmured softly still resting under him after she had got her breath back, "but I can't bring myself to complain."

It was not what he had come to hear, but he lifted his eyes so he was staring into her gaze. She was beautiful and the hands running up and down his back made him flush. His breath was dry and his heart was still racing and he now suspected it was caused by more than just the pleasure from her body.

Lucius' words echoed in his mind. Staring at her, he wanted to repeat his declaration that he did not love her.

He could not.

Instead he lent down and kissed her softly. His lips lingered over hers as he closed his eyes and accepted the inevitable.

He had been wrong.


	15. Guilty

The shinning black box Tom sat in was a little higher than the tiers to his right and left where the plum robed members of the Wizengamot watched and waited. He had fired and replaced a large percentage of the procession while they ruled the Ministry, so the Wizengamot was secure. As such, when the Chief Warlock passed him the parchment, Tom was not surprised by the words. It was exactly what he desired.

Standing, Tom allowed his robes to flow around him in a dramatic whirl as he stared down at the skinny chestnut haired man who struggled to keep his head raised and proud. "Rabastan Rufus Lestrange," he declared his voice echoing loudly around the large and ancient chamber. "You have been found not guilty of the murder of Gellert Grindelwald."

The man sagged in his chair as the chains disappeared while the room exploded in jeers and applause. Tom kept his face blank as he watched Lestrange stagger to his feet as he almost collapsed in shock without the chains to bind him.

"Are you sure about this?" Lucius murmured softly to his right, his voice low. "Someone needs to be pinned with Grindelwald's murder. The past five accused have been acquitted."

"I know," he declared ignoring Lucius' accusation as he flicked his eyes down the list of cases that had not been decided. "Someone will be punished. I have it planned."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" he snapped losing his patience. Without saying anything, he pushed himself off his seat and slid out the door at the back of the podium. The list of the next trials was still in his hand. He knew who would be the one pinned with the crime. It was the best decision.

He assured himself that his decision was based purely on logic and professionalism.

* * *

It was the middle of the day, but Tom's eyes were still closed as he breathed in the musky scent of Bella's perfume as he rested his head in the crook of her neck.

He had given up trying to convince himself that the feeling of her naked body pressed against him was only produced by physical urges and instead he just held her close. He had snuck into her office after his business in the Wizengamot and, after taking her on her couch in front of the fireplace, neither had been in too much of a rush to move.

Opening his lips, he pressed them into the pulse point in her neck tasting the sweet taste of her skin. It was easier to act. It was easier than to open his lips and say the three words that had now continued to coarse through his body since he had come to accept his feelings.

He did love her. He thought about her constantly and only her presence could make his heart sing.

He wanted to be with her as much as he could.

He wanted her to himself.

"Tom..." she moaned softly as his hands slid up her unclothed body to clasp her tight breasts. He smiled into her throat as his nail lightly scrapped her nipple. He would have had no problem intensifying her moans if a purple interdepartmental memo had not slid through the door and fluttered onto Bella's chest.

He eyed it wearily. He knew what it would say, but her reaction was less certain.

He nipped her skin lightly to distract her, but, despite the fact she moaned softly, she pushed his hands off her breasts and lifted the slip off the memo. He raised his own head and watched as her face changed. He wanted to see her smile and her face light up.

It did not. Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes went wide as she stared at him with fire in her eyes.

"Be-"

He had barely got out her name before she sat up and shoved him hard in the chest. He only fell back a small distance into the cushioned surface of the couch, but something stung in his throat as Bella continued to fume and to dress quickly.

She did not even stare back at him as she hurried from the door and slammed it behind her.

His own heart raced as he closed his eyes.

It was not the reaction he desired.

He had hoped she would be happy that her hated husband had been sentenced to death.

* * *

She ran. Her legs rocketed underneath her and her lungs pained and the only time she allowed herself to stop was the brief interlude in the lift before she reached the Ministry's holding cells. One of the Aurors tried to stop her progress but she only shoved him in the chest before she strode down the cells until she halted at her destination.

"Rod," she murmured through the bars her voice hoarse as she focused on her husband. His previous neat stubble was replaced by a complete, but his eyes were still just as blue as they stared at her coldly. "I never meant for you to die. You were meant to be released like everyone else!"

He did not say anything. His eyes were dark and hollowed as the stared at her like she was just a wall.

"Damn it Rodolphus!" she snapped anger quickly replacing her brief moment of sadness. "Talk to me!"

He remained quiet.

Gripping the coarse icon bars she screamed, "Say something!"

He did not, but someone else did.

"Bella," The voice of Lucius said, his voice oddly soft. Looking up, she gazed at the familiar blonde haired man who stood at the other end of the corridor. "It is pointless. He has not said a word to anyone."

Lucius did not ease her temper. He was just another outlet. "What did you do?" she accused immediately without considering the connection. Giving Rodolphus one last pointless glance, she stormed at the corridor to where Lucius stood. "How dare you?"

"I'm not the one to blame," he said his voice quieter than hers. "You know who is."

Her hand immediately tightened on her wand as she wanted to strike. She knew Lucius was present at the trials. She was about to scream at him until she comprehended his words.

She knew who he was referring to.

"Tom?" she murmured as if she was savouring the world and trying to comprehend it at the same time. "It was only Tom's decision?"

So caught up in her emotions she did not notice the narrowing of Lucius' eyes as he spoke, his voice soft and slow. "It was. I told him to give the death sentence to one person, but I never suspected it would be Rodolphus. I assumed he would choose someone who was less contentious and easier to link to the crime."

"I want to know why." Her voice was harsh and her eyes burned. Just so she could let out some aggression, she shoved Lucius out of the way and snarled and cursed as she stormed up to her office. She ignored Lucius' call to stay and, instead, she just moved faster.

She did not stop fuming on the long walk to her office. She growled at everyone she met and, more than once, she pushed someone out of her way.

It was not until she rammed open her doors to her office that she actually stopped.

Tom was still there.

He had not completely dressed, but he had slid back into his shirt and slacks so that only his robe was left hanging neatly and flat against the chair in front of her desk.

He looked up from where he leaned against her table and had been looked through the papers that were scattered over the surface of the desk. If she was not so distracted, she might have snapped at him for going through her files, but, as it was, she was too furious to care about something as small as that.

Slamming her door closed so hard that the frame shuddered; she did not say anything but shoved Tom hard in his chest so that he fell back onto her desk. His hands rested on her paperwork as he leaned back. She was even more furious that he seemed oddly comfortable as she loomed over him.

"How dare you!" Bella screamed her face taunt and arranged in pure fury as she shoved her open hand into his chest again. "What made you think you had the right? How dare you sentence him to death?"

"Someone had to be given that sentence," he said softly and calmly as he looked directly into her eyes. "Rodolphus just had to be-"

"Don't give me that shit, Riddle!" She barely resisted spitting in his face as her eyes glared with raw fury. "You could have chosen anyone, but you chose him! How dare you sentence my husband to death?"

She tried to back hand him, but this time he caught her wrist. The grip was painless, but it was hard enough to infuriate Bella as she fought against him. It achieved nothing and all she could do was tug uselessly.

"I thought you would have been happy that your husband will die."

"Why would I be happy about that?"

So far Tom had an answer for everything, but her biting question seemed to have stumped him. His eyes stared at her blankly for a moment and she could see his Adam's apple tense as he considered his answer.

"I assumed," he said his voice even quieter, "that you had enough of Rodolphus. I assumed you would have been pleased at the freedom and the prospect of not being trapped by a marriage."

Admittedly Bella's affection for Rodolphus was limited and being free from marriage was, in some ways, a blessing, but her fury over the fact the decision had been made by others infuriated her.

"Why would you care?" she snapped with another biting question. "Why would if I'm married or not?"

It was the same silence as before, but it stretched longer pause as Tom's hands went oddly numb and released her hands. This time she did not make any attempt to attack him. His reaction seemed to have released some of her anger.

"After all this time," he began his voice oddly hoarse, "how could I not care if you were married?"

His answer made her pause. "Why would you care? Marriage means nothing. I know you do not love me."

Tom's reaction was immediate. His body suddenly became animated as he pushed Bella hard in the ribs. She stumbled back and managed to regain her footing as she watched Tom prowl around the room before he paused near the unlit hearth.

It also managed to spark something in Bella.

Spinning on her heel she rounded on him again. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She swore to try to get a rise out of him as she grabbed him by the arm and shook him wildly. "Don't try to make me believe that you love me."

He wrenched his arm from her grip and glared at her. The anger was bubbling in his eyes. It strangely made her more comfortable to see a familiar expression on his face.

"But I do." It seemed to take all his strength to speak. His first words were loud and obvious but, as he continued, it grew softer as if he regretted his words and they caused him great pain. "I do love you."

Out of all the things she had heard today it was the most shocking. Cold, hard Tom Riddle could love? It seemed ludicrous. Half the time it seemed like he felt nothing at all and the other half seemed he was only filled with anger and lust. To hear such words made her almost want to ask him to say them again.

She did not. Instead she did the only thing she could do.

She laughed.

It was cruel and shrill as it left her mouth as she shook her head. "How could you be such a fool? Love? I hope you don't think I love you."

She was honest. She did not love him, but to watch how he recoiled from the sound of her laughter almost made her regret her reaction.

Her regret was over just as swiftly as Ton's sadness which disappeared like a flame suddenly being snuffed out. His features grew taut as he stepped away from her. He did not say anything. He only turned away and gathered his robe before he stepped towards the door.

She did not stop him. She only watched him go. She was not sure what to do.

She decided on nothing.

He should have known she did not care about him. He should have known she did not love him.

It was at least what she told herself as she collapsed on her couch.


	16. What If

**A/N:** Everyone please read the author's note at the end of this chapter after you finish reading. It is important. Thank you

* * *

The darkness was receding. The bright yellow of the sun could finally be seen over the horizon throwing light over the nearby clouds making them shine like rubies.

From the leather chesterfield lounge by the window, Tom's eyes followed the sunrise with detachment.

It barely entered his thoughts. It was just something else to stare at after the stars had disappeared.

Twisting his head behind him to the door, he was confronted by another distraction as his mother appeared in the doorway. Her grey hair was pulled into a bun and a dressing gown was wrapped in a neat bow around her waist. He had sent for her to live with him in England now that their rule was more secure and it was not dangerous.

He smiled slightly up at her. It was difficult to display a more joyful expression.

"Tom are you alright?"she asked in a voice Tom was well aware was used by most mothers as her eyebrows knitted together in concern. Stepping into the room, her mismatched eyes focused on his pale face, the dark bags under his eyes and yesterdays robes which he still wore. "Have you even slept?"

"No," he said softly his voice blank and unfeeling as he avoided the first question, "I have not slept."

"What is wrong?" Her voice was filled with concern as she slowly approached him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. He did not push her off nor did he acknowledge the contact as he continued to stare straight ahead.

"I could not sleep."

It was the truth. He could not sleep. He had tried, but his mind had been even more over active than usual and had been filled with flashes of accusations and confessions. He was not sure what was worse; her laughter or his foolish decision to confess to something he should not have spoken of.

To her credit his mother did not push him. Instead she ordered a house elf to bring them tea and sat down tentatively on the couch beside him. "I want to help," she said carefully as the tea arrived and she set about pouring hot water into a cup. "I know you find it hard to open up but..."

She trailed off and he closed his eyes for a brief moment to keep calm. It was hard to deny that her presence was comforting. He supposed that was a natural and inevitable part of being with your mother.

He stayed silent for a long time as he watched his mother slowly make his tea just as he liked it. He took the steaming cup into his hands and slowly took a cautious sip. The warm liquid flowed through him waking him up a little as he allowed himself to slump back into the lounge in a way he would only ever allow his mother to see.

"It's complicated," he started to say despite his better judgement. "I made a foolish decision and said something I should not have. I now have to face the consequences."

It was such a general answer, so of course his mother would question it.

"What did you say?"

He did not look up. He stared down at his long fingered hands as they curled and uncurled around the porcelain. No one else would have made him say the words, but the comforting hand on his shoulder was somehow persuasive.

His breath was slightly shaky as he spoke, "I told her I loved her."

He did not make any attempt to explain who she was. His mother would know.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened as she paused for a long while before she spoke again, "What did she say?"

It was the worst part. It was the worst part of the confession, but he would still continue. "She laughed."

"Oh." Her voice broke so it was soft and vulnerable. "Oh, Tom. How could she?"

He could not listen to this. Pushing off her grip, he stood and paced to the door, his fist clenched tightly together as he tried to breathe deeply. He had said enough. Turning, he left the room and left his mother behind as he tried to get ready for work.

At least he could distract himself and forget his foolishness.

* * *

In theory the Ministry would be the perfect outlet to channel his thoughts away from unpleasant directions. It was partially affective.

Sealed in his office with a pile of paperwork to sign and reports to analyse, it was a positive distraction. However, no matter what his mind was too extensive to concentrate on one issue and instead often altered course.

The mixture of anger and sorrow pulsed through him. The fact was he did love Bellatrix and being rejected by her was depressing, yet he was sure he could overcome negative thoughts. They were a fact of life and they could be overshadowwed by other factors.

Though, it was not just that. He was furious and embarrassed.

He had been laughed at. He had been signalled out as unimportant and a symbol of ridicule. Any semblance of happiness had been wrenched from him because of the rudeness and foolishness of Bellatrix. She was sure of her superiority, but she was wrong.

She apparently could never think of him in the way she should because of her arrogance and he swore to himself he would abandon any fondness if he was going to be treated as insignificant. Logically he knew emotions were tricky and defeating them could be difficult, but he swore he would.

Glancing at the paperwork in front of him, he lifted his quill to sign his name and scowled at the signature above. With a swivel of his quill that was not as impeccably neat as usual, he added his signature.

In time he would win.

* * *

Tom remained where he was for several hours. The tediousness was a relief even if his negative thoughts could not be held at bay for long. They could at least easy be pushed to the side.

For a time.

The sound of knuckles on wood drew his blank face upwards. He expected to look at his secretary; instead he faced a familiar slender body leaning leisurely against the doorframe.

"Good morning, Riddle," Bellatrix drawled as she lightly flung the door closed behind her.

His dark eyes were frozen momentarily on her figure as his hands closed around his ink well. His nails dug into the porcelain. For a moment he almost hurled it across the room at her, but he narrowly restrained himself. His gaze hardened and, giving up on hiding his emotions, he flicked his eyes from her to his paperwork.

He did not reply.

"Come on, Riddle," she murmured his voice drawing closer as her heels clicking on the wooden floor. He could see the front of her robes in the corner of his eye as she leaned over the front of his desk. "Only yesterday you told me how much you-"

His head snapped up and his hand shot up from his side and dug into her wrist. He twisted her slender limb almost enough to snap it as he pulled her closer.

"Do not!"It was difficult to not scream, but the anger still shone in his eyes. "Do not mock me. The issue is at an end. Everything is at an end."

Bellatrix did not attempt to pull from his grip. She only stared at him smugly and with a raised eyebrow. "Everything? I know you hardly mean that."

"A part from our leadership at the Ministry, _everything."_

He did mean it. He could not do it any longer. He could not stay in a relationship of any form where he was the only one to fall victim to affectionate thoughts. If he did, he knew Bellatrix would always have that power over him. She would always be able to control him and trifle with his emotions.

He could not do it. He could not face the humiliation. It was better to ignore his affection for her and hope, over time, it would decrease.

"I suppose it is for the best." Bella's voice was oddly thoughtful but she continued to smile. "I would rather not stay in a relationship with a half blood."

He almost hit her again, but he restrained himself and continued to glare at her. "So that is it? Your believed superiority is the entire reason for your behaviour. It is just because I'm a half blood."

She did not hesitate as she answered smugly, "Yes."

He did not know if she was telling the truth. He stared staring into the face that he still found attractive and still made a part of him leap with anger and affection, but he could not detect a lie. Before he could even stop himself, he found himself asking one question that seemed so critical and the root of all his troubles.

"If," he began as he struggled to keep his voice calm, but there was a level of vulnerability lingering below the surface that he could not hide, "you did not know I was a half blood, would you have loved me?"

Her face fell at such a strange question from Tom who was normally so emotionless and practical. Her eyes flicked downwards and Tom watched her reaction. Somehow his heart was racing. What ifs were notoriously useless. There could never be another situation. Nothing could be changed, but somehow in the part of him that was just like any other man he wanted to hear this from her.

"I-" she stuttered briefly as she presumably continued to think, "I don't know, but maybe. Maybe I could have."

His hold on her wrist slackened into more of a caress as he held her hand for the last time. His throat stung as he forced himself to smile sadly. "We will never know. For now we will just have to live this life now only as nothing more than joint leaders of the Ministry.

"Yes," Bella repeated her voice almost as soft as she allowed him to hold her hand one last time. "That is all we will be."

)o( Fin )o(

* * *

**A/N:** At the risk of being hurt that really is the end. I wanted to the end the fic on that point. I know from reviews that most readers wanted Bella to love him back and for them to live happily ever after, but, to be honest that is not how I write. This is originally how I wanted the fic to end; Tom loving Bella and Bella not loving him back is directly oppose the situation in the book. I have considered alternate endings, but I could never come up with a realistic way for Bella to love him back, as throughout the whole fic she has always been more reluctant. As she says her knowledge of Tom's blood status blinds her. If she had not known (aka canon) then she would not have been blinded by her arrogance and she probably would have allowed her heart to open up. I really enjoyed emphasising the AU by ending it in such a different way, but equally as tragic as the Bella/Voldemort (or Tom) often is.

Either way, I hope reviewers or those who have just stalked the fic really enjoyed the fic. It was such a strange concept, so I'm really glad it did generate some readers. Thank you especially for the reviews and favourites and I hope the ending was satisfactory. I may return to this world in a prequel form, but, for the moment, it is at an end. Self plugging time, I will be publishing a new Bella/Voldemort fic in a day or two, so if you like the ship you might want to have a look at that. It is more of a canon ship (so no more love for Tom), but based in a world where Voldemort has just won in 1974.


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